


Fixation

by LynnyMars



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: 1990s, AGAIN I MENTION ANGST, Anal Sex, Angst, Bisexual Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Blow Jobs, Child Abuse, Comeplay, Consensual Underage Sex, Demi Reggie, Fingering, Graphic Sex, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, He's working through some stuff, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marijuana Use, Mention of Reggie/OFC, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pining, Polyamory, Porn IS the plot, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Pre-Canon, Reggie's not okay, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sexuality Crisis, Underage Drinking, Voyeurism, drug references, so much voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28054641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynnyMars/pseuds/LynnyMars
Summary: The guilt and embarrassment were eating Reggie alive. Who gets addicted to spying on their friends fucking around? He was sure that therapist he stopped seeing in the eighth grade—too expensive, his dad decided, and, unnecessary, his mom agreed—would have him committed.Reggie got fixated on things a lot. The color red. His bass. Barney the Dinosaur—it wasn’t just for kids, okay? But his fixations always ended or mellowed down into a favoritism that passed as normal.Thiswas not fading, and it was never going to be normal.He was starting to realize just how damaged he was.~OR: Reggie can’t stop watching Luke and Alex.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex/Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex/Luke Patterson/Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex/Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Luke Patterson/Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 322
Kudos: 432
Collections: Kelly's Picks





	1. The First Hit

**Author's Note:**

> I'm nervous to start posting this, but it's something I've loved writing. I hope you all enjoy it.

“Who do you think pitches and who catches?” 

Reggie spits some of his soda down the front of his white t-shirt. 

“Bobby, dude, you can’t just _ask_ something like that.” The shirt is fucked. His mom is going to be more irate than usual. “It’s none of our business.” 

“They’re our best friends and bandmates. Ragging on their sex life is a hundred percent our business. Our duty, really.” Bobby takes a deep drag on the joint he’s been nursing for the last half hour and then offers it to Reggie on the other side of the couch. 

He accepts it with twitchy fingers and inhales even longer than Bobby. He’s not much of a smoker, but he’s going to need something to calm him down before the restart of his existential crisis. 

It’s building in his gut like acid, threatening to claw its way up more violently than the alcohol did after Reggie consumed too much at their house party gig last weekend. He didn’t meanto get that drunk, but he had to. It was the only way to forget about what he’d witnessed, even if the memory was only dulled for the night.

Reggie had _seen_ _them_. 

He’d been roaming the unfamiliar halls looking for a beer pong partner. Two cute girls challenged him to a round after Sunset Curve played their set in the backyard. There was no way in hell he was going to ask Bobby. His aim was shit and he’d just take both girls for himself by the end of the night. Alex and Luke may have been together, but they were always solid wingmen for Reggie when he needed them. Sure, all the ladies seemed to prefer them, but they didn’t know there was no chance they’d be going to bed with the frontman or drummer. That always left Reggie, and that was cool. 

He was used to being a consolation prize. Reggie just wanted to be wanted. 

He had found them tucked into a dark corner of a spare bedroom, the door only half kicked shut in their haste. Luke was on his knees, his face nestled right into Alex’s crotch like he lived there. The only sounds that carried into the hall, where Reggie held himself tight against the ugly floral wallpaper, were the echoes of house music blasting from the speakers below and—somehow even louder— _Luke,_ who was moaning as if it was _his_ cock getting sucked. 

Reggie should have interrupted. What if someone caught them other than him or Bobby? Alex would have a meltdown. Reggie could have just shut the door too. Both decent plans. But he ducked for cover instead. It’s what he did in tense situations. Mom flings a picture frame off the mantle? Move your ass back up the stairs or out the front door, whichever is closer. Dad chucks a half-empty beer bottle across the kitchen? Protect your head and pray that was the last of the six-pack. 

But why did Reggie get so nervous now? He’d seen Alex and Luke make out before, and he’d certainly seen them naked over the years of shared locker rooms and bedrooms. He guessed it was a little different when you _combine_ the kissing and the nudity. 

Reggie, god help him, had peered back into the doorway. The beer in him made him loose, less fidgety than usual, and he was actually quite proud of how smoothly he moved. The front of his body pressed into the door jam, his hand gripping the edge so tightly that he was sure one of his rings was going to indent the wood. 

And he watched. 

Alex was beautiful and strong, dominant in a way Reggie didn’t often see from him as he mumbled unheard words over Luke’s moaning. The moonlight from the window cast a long rectangle of light from above his blonde hair and all the way down to the middle of Luke’s back where he kneeled, his tee stretched tight against his shoulder blades and his hands clasped onto Alex’s hips. The drummer’s own hands were split between petting Luke’s hair and holding up the bottom of his pink hoodie for a better view—better for him _and_ Reggie, Reggie thought—of Luke at work. 

And he was working _efficiently_. Luke, their fearless leader—always so in control in Reggie’s eyes—whimpered and moaned around Alex’s cock like he was writing a song for it. His head moved up and down in a rhythm Reggie was sure Alex was counting in his head. The blonde watched Luke so lovingly, the most calm he’d ever looked while not sleeping. His hands weren’t twitching at all. 

Huh, Reggie had thought that was a permanent thing for Alex. 

How could he manage to be so chill, though, with Luke giving what Reggie believed was probably the best head he’d ever seen? His dad had an uncomfortable about of tapes in his “hidden” porn stash. But this? This was intimate and private and _AlexandLuke_ and Reggie’s head was spinning because he was _hard_ and it was _wrong_ but he still didn’t run away. Why—

“Sshh...” 

Reggie froze, his hand having traveled towards the front of his jeans. He hadn’t really decided to move it there. Honestly. It was just sort of happening. It took him a second or two to realize Alex was shushing Luke for his downright slutty noises and not Reggie for his labored breathing. His own panting echoed between his ears and roared around in there like Alex beating on the drums. 

Luke pulled off of Alex with an obscene, slick sound. He let his boyfriend guide him with a tug on his scalp to rest his cheek on Alex’s hipbone. Luke darted his tongue out to try to lick at Alex’s tip, looking put-out by not being allowed to dive in again even though his chest was heaving like he’d been held under water for an eternity. Reggie found himself questioning what Luke’s damp breath would feel like fanning over _his_ cock. 

“You’re too loud, baby,” Alex cooed—fucking _cooed—_ at Luke so loving and so sweet and somehow so dirty, and Reggie had to rest his forehead against the wall. 

They weren’t like this in public, weren’t like this in front of Reggie. They were normal. All jokes and average flirtation. Alex wasn’t big on PDA. He held Luke’s hand when they chilled on the couch in the studio or he threw an arm around him while they rested in the sand late at night outside Reggie’s house. They’d watch the bassist try to dunk Bobby under the waves that crashed just loud enough to drown out his parents screaming at each other back home.

Luke and Alex stole kisses and shared the occasional secretive smirk that Reggie really didn’t ever find that secretive, but maybe they _did_ have secrets. They had entirely different personalities just for each other. 

Reggie felt a little left out. 

Luke, seemingly desperate to do something with his mouth, bit at Alex’s pelvic bone. Reggie was jealous of his perfect teeth, how they shined bright white even from several feet away, his mouth and jaw thick and messy with spit. But Reggie decided he was probably more jealous of Alex because he found himself digging his blunt fingernails into his own hip, trying to mimic the sensation. It was too soft through his shirt, but he was frantic and dizzy, and it was just enough to tease at something in his head he couldn’t quite reach. 

He should have run from the feeling, the longing. It felt dangerous, like standing on the edge of a volcano, but he couldn’t move. He didn’t _want_ to. 

He was such a shitty friend. 

But how was he supposed to just stop watching the show when Luke moaned again? It was louder than ever and oh-so-bitchy with a defiant glare up at Alex.

The drummer’s face morphed into something akin to anger but not quite as vicious. His hand tightened even more in Luke’s hair and the defiance in the kneeling boy’s eyes flickered out, his eye lids fluttering shut and his hands squeezing their anchor points at Alex’s hips. Reggie wondered if Luke was struggling not to touch his own cock. Reggie was failing in that department himself again, but Luke had always had more resolve than him. 

“Don’t,” Alex began, his voice raspy and dark and _delicious_ , “be,” his hand pulled at the hair in its grasp, “a brat.” 

He forced Luke back to his cock swiftly, shoving him _downdowndown_. There was a lovely little gagging sound that made _Alex_ moan, and then Luke was humming in contentment. His right hand flew down and rubbed at his own dick. He whimpered again, but softly this time, obediently, with Alex’s member still all the way down his throat. 

Reggie massaged at himself in tandem with Luke’s motions. It was rough, maybe too rough, but he kept up with the furious grinding, like matching Luke in a duet. The pressure felt suffocating and all-consuming, but Reggie didn’t want to breathe anyway. Luke wasn’t. He couldn’t. 

Reggie was sure the sound of Luke gagging on dick was only outmatched in lewdness by Alex’s absolute authority. He looked fucking taller somehow, his back arched against the wall and his grin wicked while holding Luke against him tightly. Their lead singer looked as if he _liked_ the abuse, liked being used for—could Reggie even call it a blow job anymore? Luke wasn’t moving his head, and his shoulders were completely relaxed as he rubbed his hand fervently on the front of his jeans while Alex’s cock just seemed to make itself at home in his esophagus. 

Reggie had a fleeting thought as he ground his own hand into his dick, wondering if he’d be good at it like Luke, wondering if he’d take the abuse just as well, wondering if he could be— 

“ _Good boy._ ” 

He turned his head so fast that his neck was going to hurt the next day and bit down roughly into the fabric of his shirt. Reggie fucking came in his jeans like he was fourteen again and watching the girls’ volleyball team practice outside his house on a particularly hot Saturday morning. Only this time there were no girls involved, and wasn’t _that_ just a spine-tingling revelation. 

Reggie kept his shirt in his mouth, afraid he’d be panting too loudly without the interference. The spots in his vision cleared enough to see Alex brutally yank Luke off his knees, Alex’s cock glistening and absolutely soaked in the moonlight. Reggie was faintly bummed he missed the moment Alex had finally let Luke breathe—“let” because Alex was _in charge—_ but then the blonde was eating Luke’s face and Reggie wasn’t thinking of anything else other than the fact that Alex’s left hand had a vice grip on the side of Luke’s neck and his right hand was going for the boy’s fly to— 

A different couple crashed out of the bathroom down the empty hall, all wobbling limbs and giggles, and Reggie sobered up and found the single grain of sense he had left in his head. He bolted.

He slid away from the door leading to his bandmates and slunk down the hallway to head back to the party. In a brief moment of guilt and friendship—where had that been ten minutes earlier?—Reggie spun back around to block the couple from seeing his friends. But, before he could make it the few steps, and thankfully before the new duo stumbled into the lit space the open doorway created, the door slammed shut. 

Alex had probably come to his senses too.

Reggie staggered down the stairs, cringing at his wet boxers, but he deserved at least that inconvenience. 

He needed a drink, needed to forget. 

Bobby was at the beer pong table with the two girls Reggie left behind hanging all over him, and that was just fine all of a sudden. They greeted Reggie sweetly, Bobby introducing him with a wink like he just assumed they wouldn’t know Reggie without his help. For some reason, that was just fine too.

They drank and they danced. They touched him with soft hands and smelled like bubblegum and laughed at his jokes, but none of it felt like anything he needed any more. He could barely focus when one of the girls smothered him with lip-gloss kisses. 

He only thought of strong, fisted hands and whimpers prettier than any song Luke ever sang before. 

It was all Reggie _ever_ thought of anymore. 

“You really haven’t thought about them fucking, man?” Bobby snatches the joint back with narrowed eyes. Reggie hadn’t realized he was hoarding it. 

“Nope.” 

That sounded convincing. Reggie was proud of himself. He wasn’t nervous. Not a bit.

Bobby’s still staring at him, though. His eyes are doing some sort of stupid know-it-all thing, like he can tell Reggie’s a big fat liar.

“You totally have,” Bobby decides, leaning back in his seat with a dopey smile.

“Screw you.” Reggie pouts and crosses his arms. The soda soaking his tee is making his skin tacky. It’s probably not the only reason he feels icky all over. “You’re the weird one for bringing it up.”

Bobby shrugs, indifferent and effortlessly chill. Reggie’s jealous. He hasn’t been chill for days. 

“Hey! No getting high before practice, Bobby!” Luke and Alex appear through the garage doors—together, of course—and Luke grabs the joint out from between Bobby’s fingers. “You good, Reg?” he offers it to Reggie, who waves him off. His tongue feels thick when Luke looks him in the eyes. He salivates and he can almost taste the spit-damp cotton of his shirt again. 

“Asshole,” Bobby groans when Luke throws the joint to the ground. “How come Reggie can smoke and I can’t?” 

“‘Cause Reggie’s his favorite.” Alex nudges Luke with his elbow as he walks by to get to his drum kit, and they share one of _those_ smiles. The ones that make Reggie’s belly warm because he knows what they mean now. Familiarity. Intimacy—intimacy he should know nothing about but craves incessantly nonetheless. 

During practice, Reggie stands right against Alex’s drums, watching raptly as the boy wails on the instrument with the same sweaty muscles he had used to hold his boyfriend down on his cock. He fists his sticks with the same fingers that tugged viciously at Luke but also caressed him lovingly. Reggie all but sprints to Luke’s side to share his mic when he beckons him over with a nod. He watches the shape of his lips when he sings, watches the stretch of his throat when he holds a long note. He knows what that mouth looks like around a dick, what those teeth look like buried in skin. 

He revels in the euphoria he finds in watching them, hushing the guilt and drowning it out with the new music they’ve created in his veins. 

Mistake or not, they’re the most addictive drug he’s ever tried, and Reggie is hooked. 


	2. Withdrawal

He had mentioned he was turning into a shitty friend, right? Reggie knew that. The worst part of being sure of it was knowing that, if he said it out loud, Alex and Luke would be the first to argue with him. 

_“You’re the_ best _, Reg.”_

Luke always made sure he loved him more than Reggie could ever love himself, so earnestly and honestly. He was quick to praise him, to support him, to comfort him. 

_“You’re an idiot sometimes, but you’re_ my _idiot.”_

Alex’s affection had its own flavor, but, if Reggie was being honest, he preferred it above all else. Alex had a way of making him feel loved and wanted despite the things he hated about himself. Alex gave him shit, but god help anyone else who tried to. 

His band mates were everything he needed and nothing he deserved. Reggie knew that, too. 

The guilt and embarrassment were eating him alive. Who gets addicted to spying on their friends fucking around? He was sure that therapist he stopped seeing in the eighth grade—too expensive, his dad decided, and, unnecessary, his mom agreed—would have him committed. 

Reggie got fixated on things a lot. The color red. His bass. Barney the Dinosaur—it wasn’t just for kids, okay? But his fixations always ended or mellowed down into a favoritism that passed as normal. _This_ was not fading, and it was never going to be normal. And he was starting to realize just how damaged he was. Maybe his parents were right. He was a lost cause. 

But it was magical, watching Luke be _notLuke_ and Alex be _notAlex_. 

He watches them so often that he forgets to blink sometimes. He’s afraid he’ll miss something important, something new he’ll want to catalogue for later when he’s back home in his own bed with only his hand to keep him company. 

“You want a drink, handsome?” 

A girl hops onto the stool next to Reggie and slides a beer bottle in his direction. Oh, she’d be a nice distraction. She had bright blue eyes and dark red hair. There was a piercing through her left eyebrow. She could be fun. Reggie needed fun. Hopefully, it would be the type of fun that was more appropriate than his latest obsession. 

He’d been on edge all night. They played a set at a club, which was amazing and exciting, but Luke and Alex had been electric since the first song. Reggie was constantly getting zapped. Luke hadn’t sung with Reggie as much, and that was fine, because he kept singing in Alex’s direction instead. They were exchanging mischievous smiles, something going on beneath the surface that Reggie now understood. 

Luke was giving Alex what Reggie called the “tease-him-until-he-chokes-me-with-his-dick” look. Granted, it was a lengthy title, but it was fitting. Besides, Reggie was never, ever going to say it out loud anyway. 

Reggie had plans to stay close to them after the show, hoping to get a hit of his favorite drug, but the crowd had been thick with people. Reggie lost sight of them. The last thing he saw was Alex’s hand snaking into the back pocket of Luke’s jeans while the brunette’s fingertips danced up and down the drummer’s forearms. Alex had been guiding them slowly but surely towards the exit, dodging excited fans and drunken club-goers. 

Reggie missed an opportunity he’d been longing for. Other than watching their everyday touches, he hadn’t seen anything like he had at the house party that first time. 

It was probably for the best that he had lost sight of them, though. It was a sign. He’d ignore the ache for them—their absence had started to feel like a physical sickness from time to time—and channel his energy somewhere more acceptable. 

“Thank you, beautiful.” Reggie accepts the drink with a dopey grin. The offer was appreciated. He wouldn’t have to show the bartender his fake ID. Bobby said it looked fine, but Reggie questioned his artistry. The girl leans into his space. She smells nice, he thinks, but something’s missing. 

The things he used to do and think don’t feel the same anymore. _He_ doesn’t feel the same. 

Maybe he was gay now. Or bisexual. Or _something_. There weren’t enough words for this type of thing, but that’s okay because Reggie really didn’t want to talk about it anyway. 

“Can I help you, buddy?” 

Oh, of course the girl cozying up to Reggie had a boyfriend. The guy materializes just before she can place her hand on Reggie’s knee. She looks rightfully flustered, her boyfriend’s arm draping possessively over her shoulder. The guy glares at Reggie like it’s his fault she’s a horrible girlfriend. He’s not a mind reader. 

“Nope, all good. Thanks.” Reggie snags the beer and stands from his stool. The angry boyfriend keeps his glare on him. 

“Wait a second.” The guy steps into his space, which really wasn’t all that roomy to begin with given the crowd size in the club, and Reggie looks to his left for Bobby in case he needs back up. This is not the night he had hoped for. 

“Is there a problem here?” 

Bobby wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but _Alex_ suddenly appears at his side.

The drummer puts a hand on his lower back, sliding the fabric of his shirt upwards until his palm is touching bare skin. A coincidence, Reggie thinks. A slip of the wrist in a tight space. It’s just meant to be comforting, like always. It’s not the blonde’s fault it feels more like sweet torture now. 

It means nothing, really, but Alex has been touching him a lot lately. Or maybe Reggie is just noticing it more easily now. He’s savoring it. Luke was always free with his physical affection. Reggie has come to terms with that temptation, but Alex felt new. It feels like there are different lines being crossed. But that’s probably just Reggie’s imagination because _he_ is the one who is galloping over all of the lines by spying on them in the first place. 

“N-No,” Boyfriend stutters and Girlfriend winces a little when his hand tightens on her arm. He looks nervous. “No problem, man.” 

Reggie doesn’t blame the guy for being uneasy. For one, Alex has a couple of inches on him. For two, Alex looks _scary._ His green eyes are fierce and sparkling. Even his skin looks like it’s glowing and _oh_ —he’s in what Reggie likes to call “The Zone.” The sex zone, more specifically. 

Reggie knows the face well now, since he’s been studying Alex and Luke more closely—it’s all purely educational, he tells himself. “The Zone” has probably been entered due to Luke riling Alex up all night, but Reggie selfishly enjoys it so close to him for once. He’ll punish himself for it later, but he drinks it up while he can. The buzz coming off of Alex travels under his own skin. His spine shivers beneath Alex’s hand. The crowd feels even bigger than it did a minute ago. 

Boyfriend and Girlfriend make their exit without chancing another word. Alex watches the guy scurry away with a titled head. That fire doesn’t leave his eyes. Reggie’s eyes don’t leave him. 

“Di-Didn’t you already go home with Luke?” Reggie’s voice fucking squeaks. He takes a gulp of his beer. His mouth is suddenly super dry. 

“Yeah, he wanted me— _we_ wanted to make sure you were cool before we disappeared.” 

Alex looks like Alex again, as quick as flipping a light switch. Someone bumps into him a little and he looks apologetic at the guy even though he was the one standing still. He’s flustered, and anxious, and adorable—Reggie uses words like that to describe him now. It’s weird, he thinks. New. But he doesn’t want to talk about it. 

Sometimes, though, when Reggie sees this Alex, he thinks he’s just been hallucinating the “other” Alex, like maybe he misunderstood what he saw that night at the party. These two Alex’s couldn’t possibly exist in the same universe. The Alex that Reggie knew, Alex-1, didn’t intimidate violent guys in a club or choke his boyfriend with his dick while wearing a smile. Alex-1 did things like taking notes with three different colored pens and grumble at him for being late to Chemistry.

Reggie thinks that maybe, just maybe, he should be late on purpose Monday morning just to see Alex get all pissed off, to see if Alex-2 would make an appearance. He would point at him with a blue or red or green pen and _scold_ Reggie with that stern voice, and that simple thought just hits his gut differently now. What would his punishment be for not following Alex’s rules? Luke seemed to _like_ his punishments… 

“You look like you’ve had enough, man,” Alex laughs and takes the beer bottle from Reggie’s hand and places it on the bar. 

Oh. Reggie had dribbled some down the front of his shirt. He’s got to stop having sex-thoughts when there’s a drink in his hand. 

“I’m alright, really,” Reggie insists, eyeing the beer Alex took. 

He knows he shouldn’t rely on alcohol, given his family history and his current issues with a weird addiction, but he’s looking for coping mechanisms that don’t involve talking about his feelings. So, he’ll try the pot and the drinking and basically anything else Bobby cluelessly gets him to partake in. Except for the vegetarian stint the guitarist is currently attempting. He’s not getting involved in that. He suffers enough. 

“You sure? Seems like you were about to get into a bar fight,” Alex snickers. His hand has slid out from under Reggie’s shirt, but it still sits heavy on his hip. 

He’s standing so close that Reggie can smell cinnamon gum on his breath. Alex hadn’t been chewing it. _Luke_ had, and, okay, they had definitely gotten up to something when Reggie lost sight of them. 

He’s kind of—majorly—sad he missed it. 

“I could have taken that guy,” Reggie mutters. He would have absolutely gotten his ass kicked. 

“Okay,” Alex scoffs.

“Well, I could have _outran_ that guy.”

“That’s more like it,” Alex squeezes his side, and Reggie does reach for the beer now. He’s so thirsty. “You wanna head out with us? Bobby’s off doing whatever it is Bobbies do with skeevy bar hoppers. I don’t like you hanging here alone. We could head to the garage? Watch a movie?” 

Alright, that was so sweet. Reggie’s body cools down, but his heart is fluttering against his ribs. He won’t analyze it too much. 

“N-No,” he fiddles with the beer bottle, “you and Luke go ahead by yourselves. I don’t wanna intrude on your _alone_ time.” He tries to sound humorous, just like he’s done dozens of times on the subject, but he’s pretty sure he’s blushing. 

“You could never intrude, Reg.” Alex is soft and consoling, and Reggie really wishes he was drunk. He feels so, so guilty because _intruding_ is exactly what he had done. “Spending time with you is just as much fun as spending time alone.” 

That was a nice sentiment, even if it was bullshit. There’s no way in hell piling on the couch with Reggie and watching _Star Wars_ was better than their private activities together. He knew that for a fact now, but Alex and Luke did this a lot since they announced they were dating. They always tried to make sure Reggie didn’t feel pushed out. A few weeks ago, it made him feel loved, but now it made him feel ashamed. 

“Really, go, dude.” Reggie dons a forced smile and shoves at Alex’s chest. “Your boy is gonna get all grumpy if you keep him waiting.” 

“He’ll wait as long as he needs to.” Alex’s smirk is a little sinister, and Reggie realizes Alex forcing patience on Luke is probably another part of the game they play. 

Alex-2 has peaked out from the shadows, and Reggie’s heart starts to hammer now. He can hear his own pulse between his ears. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow for practice.” Alex-1 is back and ruffles Reggie’s hair with a gentle fondness. Reggie doesn’t even pout about him messing it up. He leans into the touch like a desperate puppy. “Don’t do anything irreversibly stupid,” Alex pleads, glancing at the empty beer bottle. 

“No promises!” Reggie jokes, but puts the bottle on the bar when Alex’s eyes harden a little. 

He didn’t know why it was so important for him to suddenly start listening to Alex’s every word—okay, maybe he _did_ know—but it was annoying. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Reggie assures him. 

Alex touches him _again_. 

It’s just a squeeze of his arm, but it’s got Reggie feeling doped up and hyperaware. He watches Alex turn away with a gentle smile. His teeth look pretty in the bar lights, Reggie thinks. And, because Reggie is weak, it’s the only fleeting thought he needs to stand up from his stool. 

This was his chance. He missed them leaving before, but now he had Alex in his sights. 

But he should just stay, right? 

Reggie steps backwards and bumps into the bar. He really should sit back down. Find another girl, a distraction to ease the growing need in his gut. But Alex’s hair is golden and glowing as he weaves through the crowd, and Reggie’s like a moth to a flame. He pushes off of the bar top and slinks through the sea of people to follow Alex. 

The drummer strides towards a back exit with purpose, but Reggie keeps his speed a little slower to maintain a safe distance. 

It’s sort of like a spy movie. 

Would that make him the villain? 

He’ll worry about it later. 

Right now his focus was on slipping out of the swinging door Alex had busted wide open before it clicked shut. They both wind up in the alleyway behind the club, Reggie ducking behind a trash can while Alex saunters a few yards towards the main street. Of course, Luke is waiting for him patiently. He’s the picture of cool, one foot propped backwards against the cement wall and his hands dug into the front pockets of his jeans. The muscles in his arms were tense. He was coiled tight with an energy Reggie thought had only been for their music, for performing. Now he knew that energy was dual-purpose. 

Reggie swallows the gathering saliva in his mouth. He’s hungry to taste the spark coming from Luke and Alex again. He knew he had it bad, but now he felt like he might actually cry if he didn’t get to see them again. He briefly wonders if he’ll even be able to watch them this time, wherever they are going, but he follows anyway, hopeful. 

Luke offers Alex his hand as soon as he’s close enough and the blonde takes it easily. Alex darts his head left and then right—Reggie ducks between two of the garbage cans—to see if the coast is clear before pressing a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s mouth. They smile, barely separating, and exchange a few words that Reggie can’t hear over the cars on the street and the speakers booming in the club. Luke turns suddenly and stares right into Reggie’s direction, speaking again to Alex while looking at the door they had come from. Luke frowns. 

He was probably concerned for Reggie, too. 

There’s that guilt making his stomach churn again, or maybe it was just the smell of the trash he was nestled against. 

Alex touches Luke’s jaw to turn him back to his mouth. He kisses the pout right off of his face. Alex is still smiling. He whispers, Reggie thinks, and then Luke’s expression matches him again. God, Reggie wishes he could hear them. He yearns to understand everything between them, the sex and the riddles. It’s needy, he knows. But addiction doesn’t often make sense. 

His friends walk hand-in-hand until they reach the brightly lit road. They separate just enough to be considered two ordinary—straight—boys. Reggie follows them like the stalker that he now is, keeping his distance but staying near enough not to lose them. They walk closely together, letting their hands brush occasionally or throwing an arm out to sling over a shoulder. They laugh or smile at every other word they share, probably flirting. 

They meander for a while, veering away from the intersection that would lead them to Luke’s suburb and then right past Alex’s turnoff a few minutes later. They are headed in the direction of the studio. They’re so going to hook up. 

Reggie’s gut was right. He’s kind of embarrassed for himself but he’s also kind of giddy and he rides that feeling all the way to the garage. 

It’s about a thirty minute walk, a humiliating amount of time for him to change his mind, but he doesn’t. Every time Reggie thinks, “Stop, this is stupid,” Alex and Luke touch again. It’s their arms looped together or, at one point on a darker side street, it’s a kiss Alex lays on Luke’s knuckles after he brings their joined hands up to his mouth. Alex bites at the bones of Luke’s hand and Luke giggles. Reggie feels warm and light like he’d gotten drunk, but he really wasn’t, so he couldn’t use it as an excuse this time. 

So, he keeps to the shadows, hides behind cars and ducks into bushes. It’s sort of fun and sort of awful, and he’s sort of an idiot, but he walks on. 

The main house in front of the garage is dark. Bobby’s parents are on another trip, always away more than home. Alex and Luke—and Reggie—move down the long driveway into the seclusion of the garage. The trees obscure most of the moonlight, and there’s only one bulb glowing near the roof, so Reggie is almost right behind them as Alex yanks one of the wide doors open and lets Luke inside with a gesture of his arm, like a gentleman. 

The lights flicker on inside. Alex slides into the building and, suddenly, he’s not a gentleman at all. 

Reggie holds back a yelp when the adjacent door, still-closed, rattles right in front of him. The windows are just low enough that he can see Alex hold Luke against the obstruction. Reggie ducks down a bit. They are _so_ _close_ , right on the other side of the aluminum, but he can only see the tops of their heads. The two are obviously kissing. There are gentle, wet smacking noises and tender sighs and heavy breaths coming through the other door loud and clear. Alex had left it swung open. Reggie thinks that’s a dangerously bad habit he’s developing but Reggie’s so, so thankful for it. 

The pair kiss for a while. The closed door sways and groans. Reggie places his palm against it, wondering what they look like. He can hear so clearly, no music or people or even car traffic in the quiet night to obstruct him, but he can’t _see._

He’s so devastated that his body physically hurts, like withdrawal, but then Alex is tugging Luke backwards and into the center of the room. Reggie almost thanks god, but then remembers the man upstairs is probably not in on this even if he does exist. Because this is absolute _sin_ , the way Luke is already moaning and clawing at Alex’s everything. It’s Reggie’s favorite sound. Screw any song they ever play from here on out. It’s never going to compare. 

Reggie’s breathing hard and nearly topples into the door in a wave of pure arousal. The windows are too high for him to stay focused and keep his footing. He almost trips over a wide stack of masonry blocks on the ground near the shut door. 

Perfect, he thinks. He’s so grateful for Bobby’s mom. 

She started building a garden wall against the garage last spring and abandoned the project, as she did with most things, when her artistic fancies shifted to her next endeavor. 

Painting?

Pottery?

Didn’t matter. 

_Stop thinking about Bobby’s mom._

_Focus, Reginald._

The blocks left behind were stacked neatly. They were the ideal height for Reggie to stand on. He regains his composure and hops the few inches up and shuffles to the edge of the makeshift stage, and then his view is _perfect._

As if on cue, Alex grabs Luke by the shoulder and forces his mouth off of his. He pushes Luke down onto the couch and stays standing himself. For a moment, he—and Reggie—just stare at Luke because Luke is a _sight_. 

He’s buzzing more than when he performs, and Reggie imagines this is a different sort of artistry that his friend enjoys. Luke is grinning and his chest is heaving up and down and the muscles of his arms flex as he scratches at the fabric of his own shirt, like he can’t contain himself but he’s trying so hard. He’s trying for Alex, performing just for him. 

“Don’t tease, Lucas,” Alex commands, looking way less flustered than Reggie. “Shirt off. _Now_.” 

Reggie _shakes_ , a full-body twitch, at Alex’s voice. It’s crisp and clear and so stern. He can hear him much better than he could in the bedroom the first time. The open door is pointed right at him, the perfect instrument for funneling his new favorite music right to his ears. 

Reggie would obey the command easily, something deep inside of him ready to do whatever he’s told just because it’s Alex saying it _like that_ , but Luke had always been more defiant. He smiles up at Alex, who is standing and watching him thoughtfully and calmly, like the bulge in his pants wasn’t painful. Luke grabs at the hem of his shirt and slides it up slow, revealing ab after ab. 

Reggie’s spine shudders at every inch. It’s so excruciatingly slow. Reggie pushes at the fabric of his own shirt, rubbing his stomach and feeling the skin, imagining it was Luke’s hands. He could make excuses, pretend like this was just about watching live pornography, but he’s starting to accept the fact that this was just about _AlexandLuke._ He wants to watch _them._ He wants _them._

Luke lets out a breathless chuckle and glides one of his hands downward to palm at his erection. His hips thrust right in Alex’s direction, and then he’s letting the shirt fall back down against his boyfriend’s orders. 

Alex stalks forward and bends into Luke’s space. He grabs the boy by the jaw with one large hand, eyes full of tightly contained danger, like lightning in a bottle. 

“Be good,” Alex says it gently, like a warning but with affection. It looks like they could kiss. They are so close and the tension is so high. Reggie rubs at his cock. 

Luke seems taken in by Alex, his face going soft and his chest rising and falling more slowly. He nods as much as he can in Alex’s tight hold. 

“Sorry, ‘Lex,” he whimpers into the blonde’s mouth. Alex smiles and licks at Luke’s lips, just a flick with the tip of his tongue. 

“No, you’re not.” Alex shoves Luke’s jaw out of his grasp, and then he’s ripping the singer’s shirt over his head himself. “But you’re gonna be.” 

Alex drops to his knees in front of the couch after tossing Luke’s shirt across the room, and _that look_ is back. It’s the fire in his gaze that he had when Luke had blown him wantonly at the party. It was a look of power even though he was the one kneeling now, a look that told Luke—and Reggie—that he was in charge. Luke was in trouble. 

Reggie was _thrilled_. It was all so wrong and perfect. 

Alex reaches for Luke’s fly and tugs the zipper downward. The sound feels loud even to Reggie. Luke keens and stretches his hands out to land in Alex’s hair, but Alex grabs him by the wrists and pins his hands to the couch. 

“No, no, baby. Good boys keep their hands to themselves.” Alex is talking down to him, but Luke doesn’t look pissed at all. Instead, he looks flushed and scolded. He licks his lips and stares at Alex through dazed eyes. “If you touch me, we’re done for tonight,” Alex adds, smiling again. 

It should be evil, and it kind of is, but Reggie’s cock is throbbing and Luke’s hips are making little jerking movements up and down so tightly that he’s basically just rubbing his ass against the couch. 

“You game?” Alex asks, his smile more genuine. 

He slides his hands into Luke’s where they had been clutching at the cushions. They squeeze together so tightly that the skin of their knuckles turns white. Reggie’s hands feel really empty all of a sudden. His heart thumps longingly. His arousal dims, and there’s this sting somewhere in his ribcage that feels like grief. It feels like loss. But that’s stupid because he didn’t actually have anything to lose. 

He was alone, out in the dark. 

His boot scrapes at the edge of the bricks he’s standing on. What if he just walked in there? He could apologize for interrupting, play coy. They’d tell him to stay. Luke may or may not put his shirt back on. They’d watch movies, all cuddled together. Reggie could touch them in ways he’d be allowed. He could hold their hands. He wouldn’t be alone. 

“Y-Yeah,” Luke interrupts his thoughts, airy and sweet, “I wanna play.” 

Alex pulls on both of their clasped hands and kisses at Luke’s fingers, a tender _peckpeckpeck_. Reggie almost feels like he could cry and he’s not sure why, but his eyes burn as if he’s staring directly into the sun. He shouldn’t be here. This is not for him. He’s a fucking Peeping Tom. This is selfish, and bad and— 

“Are you ready?” Alex asks, dark and gravelly. Reggie can only see half of his face, their profiles on perfect display, but it’s enough. There’s a whole forest fire in Alex’s eyes as he looks up at Luke. 

Luke nods at Alex. Reggie nods at no one. 

Just like that, Reggie’s back in. He’ll worry about his emotional problems later because, right now, his friends are beautiful and demand attention. 

Alex tugs at Luke’s pants and underwear, and Luke keeps his hands at his sides submissively. His cock bounces free, hard and glistening at the tip, sticky where it taps against his stomach. Luke Patterson is gorgeous from head to toe. Reggie expected nothing less. Alex helps him kick free of the clothing, leaving Luke entirely naked and Alex entirely clothed. 

He doesn’t know why, but the contrast pokes at the hot coil in Reggie’s belly. He aims for the middle ground himself. He looks around the driveway. The neighborhood is dead and quiet. No one will see him besides the fellow creatures of the night in the bushes and the trees. He pushes at his jeans and shoves them to his knees along with his boxers. The air is chilly on his hot skin and he’s _so_ hard already. 

But he doesn’t touch himself yet. He waits for Alex, and so does Luke. 

The guitarist’s thighs open easily for his boyfriend to slide between. Alex kisses his knee, trailing upwards. It’s a gentle start, but Luke is already squeezing his hands at his sides, clutching the couch cushions once again. 

Alex finally wraps a fist around Luke’s cock, his fingers moving in a slow slide around the shaft, and Reggie copies him. He's trying to remember to breathe. 

Alex starts the most agonizing hand job Reggie could imagine. He glides his hand up and down leisurely while Luke—and Reggie—struggle for composure. Alex keeps his smirk as Luke’s breathing picks up speed and he rubs his fists into the couch. Reggie matches the slow pace, follows the same rules, plays the same game. He wants to feel involved, pretend he’s there with them. He wants to belong. Strangely, he feels like, if he succeeds, he’ll make them proud. 

“Fuck,” Luke mumbles and arches upwards. There’s an obscene sound when Alex spits long and wet onto the head of Luke’s cock and then fists downwards and twists. 

Reggie is drooling. He tilts his head and curls forward to spit right onto his own cock, working it onto himself with strokes and rotations that match Alex. When the slick fluid squishes against his palm, he may or may not shut his eyes and imagine it’s Alex’s hand rubbing it in. He times a little moan with Luke’s in a duet so he wouldn’t be heard. 

Alex picks up speed. He’s _fastfastfast_. Then, without warning, he’s _slowslowslow_. There’s no discernible rhythm to poor Luke and Reggie, although Reggie’s sure the drummer has one in mind. It’s a song only he knows, though. 

Surprisingly, Alex doesn’t really blow Luke. He sticks to stroking him and spitting—there’s so much spitting. Luke’s entire body jerks every time Alex leans in to deliver more saliva, and he juts upwards, whining like he’s afraid it won’t get to where he needs it. Reggie plays along. He spits when Alex spits, and smiles when he smiles, and twists his hand when he does. He keeps his other fist clenched at his side, imitating Luke. He thrusts when he thrusts, gasps when he gasps, moans when he moans. 

“So good for me, Luke,” Alex praises, his hand moving lightning-fast over Luke’s cock. Alex’s rings catch the light with a small shimmer. Reggie’s own ring is slick with his spit and tickles his cock, cooler than the wet skin of his palm. 

Luke and Reggie are drenched. 

“So fucking pretty.” Alex whispers it like worship even though Luke was the one looking at _him_ like he’s a god. Reggie thinks they are both otherworldly. “No wonder everyone loves watching you, baby. Look at you. You’re a star,” Alex moans the compliment, and Luke’s body flushes at the praise, but Alex still doesn’t touch himself at all. The bulge in his pants strains, but he’s focused. 

He seems more concerned with drinking Luke in, watching how the side of his hand taps against the swell of Luke’s balls, so full and heavy, every time he slides downwards. Luke is hard and damp, and his cock is so dark in color that it’s got to hurt—Reggie’s sure does—but he’s not coming until Alex says so. 

So, Reggie won’t either, no matter the temptation. Usually he jacks off fast, chasing his orgasm like a race and coming again if he feels like it. He’s never done this before: denied himself, controlled himself. He likes it. It’s exciting and painful, but not the scary pain he’s used to in his life. This is a nice sting in his belly, a delicious twinge in his balls, an unrelenting ache in his cock. 

Alex spits _again_ —it’s purely slutty at this point and Reggie is loving it—and pulls at Luke with a furious pace. Reggie keeps up, but it’s so good that he has to put his free hand over his mouth to keep quiet. The leftover spit on his lips wets his palm. Everything is so fucking filthy and he’s flying so high. This has got to be over soon. He’s not going to last. 

“I’m gonna—“ Luke bucks upwards, fucking Alex’s fist. He puts his hands in his own hair. “I gotta come,” he whimpers, eyes shut and sprinting after his orgasm. 

“No, no,” Alex chides, freezing all movements and _squeezing_ at the base of Luke’s cock.

Reggie fumbles to do the same. Pre-cum flows from his tip, mixing with the spit. He almost lost it. His face is so hot with the denial, but his muscles tingle with the pride of not failing. It's a fucking _rush_. 

“Not until I say so,” Alex reprimands, like talking to a child. He’s adding rules to the game, and Reggie feels bad for Luke—and himself.

“Asshole,” Luke groans and laughs, breathless and delirious, but still obedient. He goes lax. His only movement is the vicious flex of his abs as his lungs struggle for air. 

Alex merely tilts his head, keeping his hold on Luke’s dick with one hand, and gripping securely at the muscle of Luke’s thigh with the other, effectively pinning him. Alex is definitely evil because he just smiles at Luke’s—and Reggie’s—frustration. 

Luke tugs at his own hair with a long growl and then shakes out his arms. He buries his hands back into the couch cushions. 

“O-Okay,” his voice is hoarse, “I’m good.” He nods to himself, determined. 

“Yeah,” Alex sighs, relenting his grip slightly, “you are, baby.” He kisses Luke’s knee with a tenderness, a loving approval, and Reggie’s heart swoops towards his stomach. 

Luke smiles bashfully, but then he’s moaning again when Alex’s fist starts up and his head dips _down_. 

Alex laps at Luke’s balls, sloppy and loud when he, of course, spits again. Reggie copies as best as he can, spitting into his free hand and rubbing at his sac. There's too much stimulation now. Everything’s wet and too full in his palms and— 

“Fuck, _yes_ ,” Luke squeals when Alex goes even _lower_. Reggie’s hips thrust forward hard in a spark of arousal so sharp that his knees go weak. He scrambles to stay standing. Luke’s groaning so loudly. “Thank you, ‘Lex. _Shit!”_ Luke’s eyes are wide as he bears down on Alex’s face, and Reggie is pretty sure the blonde is managing to grin with his tongue in Luke’s ass. 

Alex is licking and humming louder than Luke’s moaning and Reggie lets himself whimper with abandon, adding to the chorus of obscenity. He barely thinks about it before he‘s moving the wet fingers at his balls down to rub at his hole. It’s good and _so bad_ and he wishes it was someone's—Luke or Alex’s—tongue. And how come he had never done this before because _holy fuck._

“I can’t do it,” Luke pants, shaking his head and stretching his fingers in and out of fists. “Babe, _please, please, please.”_ Luke’s not above begging after being worked over this much, and Reggie can’t blame him because he’s so frustrated that he might cry if Alex doesn’t relent. 

“You got this, love,” Alex murmurs, petting Luke’s thigh and licking his way up to lap at the skin of Luke’s cock that his hand doesn’t cover. Reggie takes his wet fingers away from his ass, trailing them upwards to press at each point that Alex’s mouth touches. 

Alex’s jaw is glistening like Luke’s everything, and Reggie is dizzy. His arms are getting sore from bending forward, the tight jeans around his knees giving him too little space to work with. He wishes he was naked. He wishes he was Luke. 

“Only a little more, okay? You’re doing so good for me,” Alex reminds him—them—sweetly, but his fist is vicious again, moving fast and slick. 

“Oh, god,” Luke groans and dares to glare at Alex but scratches at the couch cushions instead of giving in. He fucks up into the strokes. The furniture whines in protest at the thumping rhythm. 

“Not until I say. _Not until I say_ ,” Alex chants, picking up speed and leaning his shoulders into the power of his strokes. 

He presses into Luke so close that his pink shirt dampens where it brushes Luke’s spit-soaked skin. 

“You got it, baby,” he coos over the noise of Luke babbling and begging and cursing. 

Alex is looking more wrecked now, too, breathing hard and humping towards Luke’s calf in little aborted movements. Reggie thinks it serves him right. His own wrists are getting tired, but he probably feels the best he’s ever felt in his life. This is so much better than the first time. 

Alex slides his free hand along Luke’s thigh and tugs gently at his balls. Reggie follows dutifully, his muscles on autopilot. 

“Hold on. You got it,” Alex encourages him—them—again. His fingers tickle lower. 

Fuck. Reggie’s sweating and his stomach hurts. He’s fighting so hard not to let go. 

“You got it.” It’s almost a whisper then. Alex can’t seem to catch his breath, but, of course, he’s fucking _smiling_. The son of a bitch is creeping his fingers all the way between Luke’s open thighs and _pushing in_. 

Reggie should’ve hesitated. He should have done a lot of things up to this point, but he didn’t think a single thought before bending down and pushing a wet finger into his ass, his other hand still flying up and down his abused cock. 

It’s _good_ and weird and different and fun. He kind of wants _more_. 

It feels naughty and new, the heat around his finger and fullness at his hole, and he’s pretty sure he’s been doing sex wrong this whole time. It was always just physical, but this? This had him in his head, high on adrenaline and pleasure and, for once, he wasn’t scared of what he thought or felt. He would follow Luke and Alex anywhere. 

He’ll never be able to fuck the same again. He’ll always need more—he'll always need _AlexandLuke_ , the bad part of his brain whispers. 

He pumps his finger in and out, little flicking motions that Alex is teaching him, and wills his head to quiet down again. 

“Not yet, not yet,” Alex giggles excitedly, resisting Luke’s attempts at throwing him off when the boy writhes upwards. 

“Fuck!” Luke screams. He twists his arms back, holding desperately at the fabric behind his head and thrusting his whole body into Alex. He’s riding his hands. 

“You got this, baby. Hang on.” Alex looks more determined. He fingers Luke harder, the digit pushing in and out in a tempo that matches the strokes to his boyfriend’s cock. 

It’s too much, Reggie thinks. He’s going to lose it, or pass out, or both. 

“Hang on,” Alex reminds him and Luke. It's encouraging and kind, like he’s teaching him how to ride a bike. 

Luke is begging and yelling until he’s not making any noise at all. His mouth stays open in a silent scream and his body arches into the points where Alex is working him over. His eyes squeeze shut and Reggie struggles to keep his open. 

Neither one of them are breathing. Alex has to— 

“ _Come.”_ He finally growls the command. 

So, they obey. 

Reggie’s vision blurs and then narrows. All he can see is Luke coming all over his abs, the skin a stark pink against the white mess he makes. Alex pumps him through it, still viciously fast. Reggie feels his own cum cover his fist. It's hot and sticky and awesome. His ass clenches around his finger. That’s even _better_. 

Luke is beautiful. He’s gasping for air, but he’s smiling down at Alex and his hands are lax at his sides. All of the fight leaves him. Reggie’s never seen him so serene.

“Good job, Luke. Fuck.” It’s Alex’s turn to sound wrecked. He loses his composure after he’s wrung out every last drop from the boy’s softening cock. 

Once coiled so tight, now Alex springs to life. He crawls upwards, biting and licking at Luke’s chest. He catches a nipple in his teeth and _pulls_. Luke whimpers but remains still. 

“Put your hands on me, baby. _Please_ , go ahead. It’s okay now,” Alex encourages him, breathing on the damp skin of his pec. 

Finally released from his contract, Luke doesn’t waste a moment. His hands are in Alex’s hair and tugging. 

Reggie keeps one hand wrapped gingerly around his cock and rubs at his chest and his scalp with the other once he slips it out from between his thighs. His ass feels empty, and his skin is prickly everywhere, and he can’t stop shaking. 

Alex pushes his head into Luke’s hold, probably as starved for touch as Luke—and Reggie—had been.

He continues his abuse of Luke’s nipple, biting and licking, and then he’s trailing upwards to worship at his clavicle. He's tasting him like he’ll disappear. He straddles Luke, thrusting his clothed groin against him once, twice, thrice. Luke whimpers at the sensitivity of fabric on skin, and then Alex loosens the string on his pants and pushes them down just enough to free his cock, leaving the hem tucked tightly beneath his balls. 

Alex gives himself the same treatment that he’d given Luke—and Reggie. He strokes fast with a hand covered in spit and Luke’s cum. Luke is pliant and winded but he’s moaning and Reggie is gasping right along with him, watching Alex work himself roughly.

Reggie’s dick twitches with interest, but he’s sore and spent. He keeps petting himself soothingly. 

It's not long at all before Alex comes. He sounds so pretty. His voice is glorious. Reggie wonders why they don’t give him more solos while he watches Alex paint Luke’s abdomen with more white. He’s dripping with it, the liquid catching in the dips of his abs. Alex holds himself steady with one hand on Luke’s shoulder. 

“So good for me, honey. You did so well,” Alex commends him. Luke squeezes at his sides with a prideful smile. 

Alex settles into his lap, leaning back to look at Luke’s stomach. He glides his fingers up the skin, trailing through sweat and cum and spit. He plays with it, paints with it around Luke’s nipples, and then he offers Luke his hand. 

Reggie bites down hard at the inside of his cheek, the sharp point of his canine drawing blood. The pain is nice. It's not new to him, the taste of violence, but _wanting_ it is. 

He licks at his broken skin while Luke laps at Alex’s fingers. Luke dons a lazy smile and cleans the mess off of Alex, moaning when he sucks up the length of his middle finger. Alex is grinning, all breathless and free. 

Reggie releases his cock and glances at his own hand curiously. Again, he doesn’t put much thought into it before touching the skin with the tip of his tongue. He moans and licks more after the first taste, watching Luke do the same. It’s the act of it more than anything. The wrongness of it feels so good that it turns to rightness and arousal and glee in his bones. 

He doesn’t know if he likes all of these things now because they like them, or if it’s because he _is_ like them. 

“Love you,” Alex murmurs. Luke smiles, blissed out, and bites at Alex’s knuckles with his perfect teeth. Alex pulls away, licking one last drop of cum off of his own thumb before bending in to kiss Luke. 

Reggie is a wreck. His cock is damp when he shoves it back into his boxers, and it’s too sensitive when he zips up his jeans. The fabric of his shirt is soaked with sweat. He's probably just going to throw it away. 

But he feels _awesome_. He sort of feels like he should go in there and congratulate them on a job well done. Reggie likes giving praise where praise is due. He knows what it’s like to be without it, but… this isn’t something he should be celebrating. 

It’s not a performance that he’s supposed to be a part of. 

Just like that, his orgasm is long forgotten. He’s cold. He's got to walk home alone on shaky legs. 

He takes one last, longing look at Alex and Luke kissing, their bodies pressed completely together, before he starts his trek up the driveway. 

Reggie’s not great at a lot of things, but he prides himself on being a good friend. 

Tonight was enough. It was perfect. It’s all he’ll ever need. 

Right? 

He’ll stop this. He'll go home and wash away his sins. He'll wake up early, get donuts for the guys and meet them in the garage like usual. He’ll sit on the couch with Luke and not think about his bare ass on the cushions. He’ll watch Alex lick the jelly off of his fingers and not think about where that tongue had been. 

He’ll just quit, Reggie decides. 

This last hit of _AlexandLuke_ was going to have to be enough. 

But Reggie goes home to broken bottles on the floor and his drunk father on the sofa, and he knows that’s just not how addicts work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your reactions to this fic so far have been amazing. I’m so, so glad people are enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it. Thank you for all of the comments and kudos. I hope this update lived up to your expectations :)
> 
> I’m hoping to put up the third chapter next Sunday like usual, but I apologize in advance if the holidays slow me down. I promise, if I fall behind, I will get back on track by the next week. This fic WILL be finished. Thank you all for your patience and excitement!
> 
> I hope everyone has a happy and healthy rest of the year :)
> 
> [-Lynn](https://lynnymars.tumblr.com/)


	3. Rock Bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the angst and hurt/comfort tags? Yeah.

Reggie’s been doing great. 

So, so great. 

Really. 

He hasn’t jacked off once to _AlexandLuke_ in the weeks since he’d declared his sobriety. 

He even went on a date! That was... not so great. 

He and Kimberly Drake from his Science class had hung out after school in detention together. They hit it off the second she complimented Sunset Curve and batted her lashes in Reggie’s direction. Passing notes back and forth had led to a dinner invite—which Reggie very smoothly delivered, by the way, with a doodle of a pizza—and dinner had led to hooking up in the back of Kim’s car. 

Reggie had felt good. Really, really good. He felt _normal,_ making small-talk and flirting and being the same guy he was before _AlexandLuke_. 

But he wasn’t that guy anymore. He couldn’t unsee what he saw or undo what he’d done. 

A great evening had turned into a disaster once Kim had reached for his dick. The kissing had been nice. She tasted like Sprite and her giggle was super cute when Reggie squeezed her hips. He wasn’t thinking about the guys at all, but then her petite hand was palming at his jeans and he froze, his fingers halfway up the front of her top. She was so small, so fragile, so _girly_ , and it just didn’t feel like enough anymore. It didn’t feel like it used to. 

He had to think of Alex rimming Luke in order to stay hard, and then he felt guilty enough about the momentary relapse to get embarrassingly soft. 

The night had ended much more quickly than he had planned. Kim was sweet about it, but she was rightfully distant with Reggie when she had dropped him off at home. 

She was chatting with another guy the next day in Chemistry. Reggie wasn’t even upset about it. He shouldn’t have even tried dating anyway. 

He was on the road to recovery. That was what he should have been focusing on. 

Focusing on focusing. 

No distracting sexual thoughts or fantasies. 

Luke and Alex made it difficult, though. They gave him so many opportunities to prove his sobriety. It was challenging and exhausting, but Reggie was sure he deserved the torture, so he wouldn’t complain. 

He does his best to keep away from the guys for a while, tries to keep his eyes and ears out of their business. He can’t stand seeing the touches without staring, not following each and every movement. He's jumpy and jittery and constantly horny. 

So, he stays away. Well, he _tries_. But he can’t deny Luke when he drags him to the mall, and he can’t reject Alex’s offers to tutor him in Geometry after they shop, and he can never say “no” to a movie night when Bobby fills his living room with enough snacks to make them puke. 

So, he tries and fails to keep his distance. 

Recovery is hard, but it’s supposed to be, isn’t it? 

Well, _he’s_ definitely hard by the end of movie night. 

_The Mask_ plays loudly and the screen is the only light in the room. Bobby is shoving potato chips into his mouth faster than he can chew. They are littering the floor around him where he sits. Alex and Luke are smashed together on the sofa. Alex has his arm draped around Luke, curled up under his shoulders, his hand resting on his side. To the innocent eye, they seem normal. Bobby certainly doesn’t notice anything, but Reggie is a pro, and, of course, he’s watching like a hawk even when he shouldn’t be. 

His view is perfect from the arm chair he plopped into. He can pretend that he’s watching the TV while keeping his head turned just enough to see his bandmates. He knew the signs in their body language, knew there would be something to see. 

Alex tickles Luke’s skin through the over-sized cutouts of his sleeves. His fingertips dance on his ribs, and his knuckles catch in the fabric when he pushes deep enough to smooth his palm over Luke’s abs. 

Luke squirms in his seat. Reggie does the same, convincing himself he’s just trying to get comfortable on the lumpy chair. Alex is unfazed. His hand keeps tracing along Luke’s skin, and then he’s creeping higher and higher. He rubs roughly on Luke’s nipple. 

“Shit,” Luke hisses. Alex smirks and doesn’t even take his eyes off of the screen. 

Bobby glares at them briefly for interrupting the movie. Luke starts coughing dramatically, blaming his outburst on the popcorn he had in his lap. Bobby accepts the excuse and turns obliviously back to the movie. 

Reggie’s mouth is dry. He sinks into the chair, trying to hide his boner—this time it came on disgustingly easy—and he leans forward for his soda. Luke’s foot is right near the can on the coffee table. When Reggie has the drink in his grasp, Luke kicks at his wrist gently. He dares to look up and Luke fucking _winks_ at him, his teeth glimmering in the blue lighting of the room when he smiles something wicked and conspiratorial. 

He totally caught Reggie watching. 

It's not as bad as it could have been. It was just a little groping, but- 

Reggie feels sick. His erection isn’t a problem anymore. 

He chugs down his drink and slides deeper into the chair so that he can’t see Luke’s expression turn into concern. He hears Luke and Alex whispering, but he focuses on the movie so that he can‘t understand them. It’s what he should have been doing from the start. 

Milo the dog helps Stanley Ipkiss escape from jail. It’s Reggie’s favorite part of the movie. He’s always wanted a dog. Now, though, he feels nothing when the little Jack Russell Terrier mistakes the word “keys” for “cheese” and digs through a sandwich. He’d usually be cracking up. He can’t even feel his face. 

As soon as the credits roll, Reggie rushes home. He makes a lame excuse about his parents expecting him, which no one believes, but they don’t actually stop him from riding away on his bike. 

Luke tries, though, because he’s Luke, but Alex and he share one of their weird eye-conversations and then Luke is settling back into Alex’s side with an awkward wave "goodnight." 

Reggie probably made them uncomfortable.

He has trouble breathing the whole way home. The air in his lungs doesn’t feel like enough no matter how much he inhales. He feels more normal when he makes it to his room, his door locked and his ass on the carpet. 

He can‘t stop thinking about Luke’s wink. He treated him like they were coconspirators. Reggie loves that. He loves being Luke’s partner in crime, but now it leaves him queasy because he’s stomped all over their brotherhood by invading their privacy and trust. 

Would Luke fucking _wink_ if he’d known just how much Reggie’s seen of them? It wouldn’t be funny then. 

Reggie’s life would be over if they found out. He’d lose them all, the band and his only friends. 

And maybe he deserved that. 

He was so, so broken. 

“Fuck!” Reggie growls into his knees and curls in on himself. 

He kind of wants to hit something. 

He kind of wants to hit himself. 

He settles for crawling face first into his bed and wishing he were dead. 

Reggie thinks a lot more than he used to. Or, at least, he thinks a lot more about himself. It’s really not a happy process. 

The hole he’s been digging himself has gotten so deep that it feels like a twenty-foot grave. The walls are straight—unlike him, apparently—and high. There's no way out. He feels like he's been down there so long that the dirt will never wash out of his skin. He's stuck in the bottom of the pit with the bugs and the worms, crawling all over him along with his failures and disappointments and insecurities. 

Reggie pulls his face off of his mattress when he remembers that the burning in his lungs means he might actually pass out. 

If Luke and Alex like guys too, why did they pick each other? Why didn’t they pick _him?_

He feels a little—“a lot,” the bugs and worms whisper—unlovable. 

But he doesn’t understand why it actually matters, his feelings of jealously and inadequacy, because he would never want Alex and Luke to not be _AlexandLuke_. 

It's selfish, and nothing makes much sense to him at all anymore. He can’t even talk to the two people he confides in most, either. 

Reggie doesn’t know how long he’s been lying there on his bed, but the neighborhood has gone quiet by the time he hears his parents stumble into the foyer below him. 

He doesn’t have to see them to know they’re both drunk. Their voices are loud, yet he still can’t make out the words they're screaming back and forth at each other. 

His stomach growls. He hadn’t actually remembered to eat anything at Bobby’s, being too preoccupied with Alex and Luke’s cuddling. Reggie hears his parents continue their bickering through the living room below. 

Would it be a worse punishment to let himself starve for the night or to enter the war-zone downstairs? 

He’s feeling self-loathing, so he gets up. 

When he shuffles into the kitchen, he steps right into a scuffle. His parents were _definitely_ drunk. He could smell it in the air. 

Not that he can judge anymore, now that he’s an addict too. He’s worse, he thinks. He couldn’t pick something normal like drugs or booze. No, he’s a sexual deviant. 

Reggie eyes a box of crackers on the counter behind his screaming mother. They haven’t noticed him at all yet. His dad shoves his mom roughly across the kitchen. Reggie doesn’t even know what the argument is about this time. Probably nothing that mattered, but alcohol makes everything matter to his father. 

“Dad, take it easy.” Reggie helps his swaying mother stand up straight. She may not be very kind to him either when they get like this, but she was still his mother, and he didn’t come down to see her get hurt. He came down to hurt himself. 

“Fuck off, Reggie,” his father bellows. 

That was more like it. 

His father moves towards his mother again. Reggie doesn’t get out of his path. He braces for impact. He needs this. 

“You’re always in the way,” his dad slurs, his words losing volume but his hands gaining power. 

Reggie forgets about his crackers and his problems for the few brief seconds it takes for his back to collide with the kitchen counter after his father pushes him. There’s a neatly piled stack of dishes drying next to the sink. His mother probably washed them earlier in the day when she was sober and pretending to be responsible. The porcelain plates smash and shatter with the impact of Reggie’s body. The silverware clatters to the ground along with him. His back burns when he lands. There’s a sharp pain in his skin when he tries to stand up. 

“Look what you did!” His father decks him right across the face, and Reggie goes back down hard. 

This was a little more than he bargained for, but it felt right nonetheless. If he didn’t punish himself for his thoughts, he’d just fall back into bad habits. At least his father was being useful. 

“What the hell are you laughing at, kid?” 

Reggie didn’t know he _was_ laughing. He's lost it. 

It angers his dad more, feeling like he might be the joke, and Reggie curls in on himself when his father's boot connects with his shoulder. 

He thinks of Luke’s wink when his arm aches. He thinks of Alex’s comforting hand on his back that night at the bar, the gentle touch now replaced with the sharp impact of his father’s foot against his spine. 

He deserves this. He doesn’t deserve them. 

His body is screaming. He's going to feel this for days. 

He’s not laughing anymore. 

Reggie bites his tongue when his father kicks him one last time in the ribs. He tastes blood.

His mother is fussing over the broken dishes instead of her broken son. 

“Get out of my face, Reginald,” his father grumbles. He seems tired of wailing on Reggie. He saunters towards the fridge instead. His mom stumbles her way to the pantry, maybe to get a broom. 

Reggie doesn’t know what he wants anymore. His head hurts and it’s empty, which is kind of blissful compared to earlier. He crawls off the floor and through the living room and out the front door. He thinks he might have left it open on the way out. It doesn’t really matter. Neither of his parents will even notice until morning. 

He'd go back tomorrow. His mom will probably make “sorry about last night” pancakes for dinner because they’re his favorite. His dad will probably increase his allowance. Reggie knows it will be the only warm meal his mom cooks that week, and his dad wouldn’t actually remember to give him the allowance at all once they found themselves at the bottom of the next bottle, but he’d appreciate the sentiment and accept it with a smile because, really, what else was he supposed to do? 

It’s not easy to kick an addiction, he understands. 

It’s cold out, and Reggie doesn’t have his jacket, but he roams the streets anyway. The sky rumbles above and lightning streaks across the sky over the ocean. 

Of course, he ends up in Luke’s neighborhood, his instincts kicking in like a bird flying south for the winter. Luke is his safe place when his parents are too much for him to handle, and right now, with his arm throbbing and his back coated in what feels like a decent amount of blood, he can’t handle it alone. 

So, his punishment just leads to more temptation. 

Reggie can’t do anything right, even when he’s trying. 

The rain has started to come down steadily by the time he reaches Luke’s window. He’s grateful for the bedroom being on the ground floor. He’d never make any sort of climb in the shape he’s in. The house is dark and he knows there’s very little chance of disturbing Mitch and Emily. They’ve learned to be heavy sleepers after years of their son practicing to be a rock star at every waking hour. 

Reggie raises his good arm, about to knock on Luke’s window, when he freezes. 

Luke is not alone. 

He’s with Alex. 

Naked. 

In bed. 

_This is not Reggie’s fault!_

It’s as if he was an addict who accidentally ran into his ex-dealer at the grocery store and suddenly got a craving to smoke the crack he used to buy. Except his dealer was _AlexandLuke_ and his crack was voyeurism. 

He should leave. He should run—or limp—away. He shouldn’t stay. 

He shouldn’t. 

So, of course, he does. 

Reggie is enraptured. He leans against the windowsill and watches. _Just_ watches. Every time before had sound, a series of symphonies that continue to blare through his skull, but this, right here, was a silent movie. 

The rain is loud and steady, hitting the pavement a few feet behind him where the roof's awning ends. It's the perfect white noise to the picture seen through the glass. 

Alex is fucking Luke. Reggie's got the answer to Bobby's question, but he's not that surprised given all he's witnessed. 

What surprises him, what makes his heart beat faster than any of the times before, is how different he feels now. 

He's only half hard. His arousal is numb compared to the fluttering in his chest. 

Alex caresses Luke's face, so gentle and slow and unlike the other touches he's seen. Their mouths are moving, words and moans likely exchanged. They are words just for them, not for Reggie, not even now. The sheets on Luke's bed barely cover their lower halves. The fabric rides down Alex's skin with every long thrust he makes into his boyfriend, and the moonlight is pale on his skin. The muscles of Alex's ass clench when he pushes forward, the shadows of it bleeding together with the shadows of the rain drops trailing down the window and gliding across their image. 

Alex's thrusts stay perfectly steady as he smiles down at Luke, who looks as though he's hanging on by a thread. Alex's mouth moves with murmurs Reggie can't hear, but whatever substance they hold has Luke arching up violently off of the bed and turning his head to bite down hard onto Alex's arm braced beside him. 

Alex smiles at the pain, like the insane motherfucker Reggie's discovered he is, and his hips don't miss a beat. The smile is gone in the next second, though, and Alex looks more serene. He nudges Luke's jaw with his nose, an apology maybe, and kisses up the side of his face, little brushes of his lips that go all the way up to Luke's hairline. 

Luke's teeth unlatch from Alex's arm. He licks at the spot with swipes of his tongue that are as gentle as the blonde's kisses. Alex tickles two fingers against Luke's lips, and the boy sucks them gingerly, a desperation in his expression as he pushes up into Alex while trying to stay quiet. 

Alex's thrusts turn languid like a slow dance. They are savoring this. It's not the game of hunger and vicious hands that Reggie is used to. 

This is real intimacy. 

It's love. 

Reggie's crying. The tears feel warmer than the rain drying on his skin. 

He's gotten so hard, but he doesn't care this time. He just wants to _see_. He wants to see the two people he loves be in love. He wants to know it's possible. 

He's starting to make more sense to himself as he holds his aching left arm against his chest and feels the blood matting his shirt to his back. 

He froze with Kimberly because he didn’t care about her. 

He fucks girls, but he hasn't loved any of them. He loves Alex and Luke. There's a safety and comfort with them, with their music and their friendship connecting to his buried soul. He can't replicate that with others. They were always going to be strangers in comparison. And, maybe, he was okay with that. He's never really known any of the girls he's been with because he doesn’t _want_ to know them, not in the way he knows his boys. He doesn’t want to cuddle with girls like Kimberly, doesn't want to stay until morning when the light is brighter and the air is clearer and they can _see_ him. 

He doesn't want to be seen by anyone else. He doesn't want them to know his darkness or his dreams. 

He doesn't want someone to take Luke and Alex's roles in his life. 

Reggie's gotten it all wrong. Sex is not just sex. It can be exciting and fun and hot, but, looking at Alex and Luke, sweet and close and magical, he realizes there's so much more to it. There are pieces he's missing. 

There's love in the way Alex pushes in and out of Luke, an intimacy that Reggie craves. There's tenderness in the way Luke tucks his face into Alex's neck, a sense of safety Reggie longs for. There's true beauty in the way they cling to each other when they come, an art Reggie wishes he could openly worship. 

Luke leans up to kiss Alex slowly, his hand gentle on his neck as he licks into his mouth. Alex slides in and out of Luke as they fall down from their high, the sheets fully dropping off of them now to show Reggie exactly how connected they are from head to toe. 

Reggie shivers when a breeze rolls through and the rainfall softens from a downpour to a shower. He's still hard, but he does nothing about it. It would be a step too far away from sobriety. Besides, he sort of just wants to watch them hold each other. 

He's turned into such a sap. He might be more screwed than he already was. 

The stinging in Reggie's back turns sharp when he shifts on his feet. The movement has the fabric of his shirt pulling at his wounds. He's not even sure how bad they are. 

He remembers why he came here in the first place. 

He watches Alex slip out of Luke, the cum inside of him sliding down to the sheets below. Alex is slow and soft in his movements as he wipes Luke's own release off of his stomach with his hand. He offers it to Luke just like he had in the garage, and Luke licks at his skin tiredly but appreciatively. 

Luke definitely has an oral fixation. 

Reggie gets it. 

He gives them a few more minutes of peace and the illusion of privacy before he lifts his good arm to tap on the window frame, a rhythmic knock he always used to signal Luke. He feels horrible when the two boys jump out of their serenity. They freeze and look towards the window. Alex is protective, his body shielding his boyfriend, but Luke barely hesitates before clamoring right out from under him. 

He makes eye contact with Reggie through the rain-streaked glass and smiles wide. He bounces to the window, not seeming to care about his nudity.

Reggie thinks that's really nice, to feel welcome somewhere for once. 

"Reggie!" Luke sounds delighted as he lifts the window open. "We thought you might- What the fuck happened to you?!" His demeanor changes once he can actually see the state Reggie's in. The giddy smile turns into a scowl. 

"What's wrong?" Alex calls out behind him while sliding into a pair of boxers. He rushes over, stumbling to get to the window. "Oh," he mutters softly when he looks at Reggie. 

Reggie kind of wants to run away. 

"Don’t just stand there, Luke." Alex shuffles him out of the way. "Come on, Reg. It's alright," he speaks soothingly, like calming a wounded animal, when he reaches through the opening for Reggie. 

Reggie goes right into Alex's spread arms and lets him do most of the work in hoisting him over the windowsill. It feels good, being held once he’s standing steady on his feet inside. 

“Fuck, your back!” Luke yelps, gripping at Reggie’s shoulders and twisting with a mix of terror and fury. “I’m gonna kill them! They’re fucking _done.”_

Reggie flinches at his volume. 

Alex shushes him. 

“Not helping,” he scolds. “Luke, put on some damn clothes while I get the first aid kit.” His voice is authoritative but tired. Reggie finds it soothing. 

Luke grumbles to himself but follows the order. He grabs a pair of gray sweat pants off of the floor, unconcerned about his cock on display for Reggie, who combats a weird mix of flattery and guilt that he's too exhausted to entertain. He just stands there, stupid and still. 

Luke trips his way back to Reggie. The pants are way too long at the ankle. They are definitely Alex’s. It’s adorable. Reggie smiles, but it turns into a wince when the expression makes his jaw ache. 

“I’m sorry. I’m bothering you guys.” Reggie looks down at his feet, purposefully keeping his eyes away from the bed. 

“You’re not a burden, Reggie.” Luke holds both of his hands. “You belong here,” he squeezes tight, “with us.” 

Reggie doesn't know if he can agree or not, despite what he wants. He stays silent. 

"Here, sit with me." Luke's voice is as gentle as Alex's then, pulling Reggie to the edge of the bed. 

Luke finally gains a little humility when he perches at the end of the mattress, causing the rumpled sheets to shift beneath them. There's a wet spot at the center of the bed where he and Alex had made love. He blushes, way lighter than Reggie ever would but still a vibrant pink, and scoops up the blanket to lay it over the evidence. 

"Good enough," Luke giggles, uncharacteristically bashful. He certainly wasn’t winking now. 

Reggie thinks Luke-1 and Luke-2 are harder to decipher than Alex-1 and Alex-2. Every version of Luke is a dangerously charming flirt, but Alex's Luke is sweeter, needier. The only time Reggie's ever seen Luke submit to anything is with Alex. That’s all Luke-2. Reggie thinks that must be nice, to be completely free with someone.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Luke places his hand on Reggie's knee. 

For just a moment, Reggie thinks Luke is talking about his feelings for them, or at least about the jizz-stained bed. But then Luke is bringing his other hand up to rub delicately at the sore spot on Reggie's cheek. 

"There's nothing new to say. They were at each other's throats again. I got in the way." Reggie shrugs, helpless and tired. His eyes shut at Luke's touch. 

Being this close, he can smell Luke. He smells like _AlexandLuke_. Sex and sweat and the fabric softener that Emily uses on Luke's clothes. Reggie breathes in deeply. 

"You love Alex, right?" Reggie keeps his eyes closed as he speaks. The thumb tracing his jaw stills. 

"Of course I do." The thumb moves again. 

"How did you know?" Reggie opens his eyes. 

Luke tilts his head and scoots even closer to Reggie. He's so warm against his rain-drenched skin. 

"I know it like I know how much I love _you_. I know it like I love music." Luke slides his hand up to paw at Reggie's hair. "Some things live in your bones, you know? It's not a choice." 

Reggie understands, but he doesn't know if Luke would if he told him the truth, if he told him that his own feelings weren't just familial anymore. 

He pushes into Luke's palm, shutting his eyes again. What if he lost this? Luke didn't handle betrayal well. He took trust seriously, vulnerable with his heart and his art and only handing them out to a select few. It always made Reggie feel so special. 

Why wasn't that enough anymore? 

He wishes he never saw them that night at the party, but Reggie can't un-ring that bell. 

A sound of a throat clearing interrupts Reggie's trance. Alex is standing in front of them, now wearing one of Luke's blue hoodies, pulled on but unzipped. He's holding the first aid kit and eyeing Luke with a fond smile. Reggie didn't know how long Alex had been standing there watching, listening. 

He'd probably heard Luke's declaration of love, and Reggie understood it was easy to get flustered by the lyricist's words. Without the haze of sex, Alex and Reggie were alike in that they were easily embarrassed by affection. Luke was so free with it, intimate touches and proud songs. His parents had taught him it was okay to love, to believe in it, trust in it because their love for him was unconditional even if their support for his career wasn't. 

Alex's parents weren't so generous with their affection. Alex's family showed him love was something to be used. They could punish him for his and withhold their own when it suited them. When Alex came out, Mr. and Mrs. Mercer nearly disowned him. Now, they just ignore him. Reggie thinks that may be worse than getting hit—not existing at all. 

No wonder Alex seemed to take control with Luke, to make Luke need him. And Luke pushes Alex's buttons to test him, to make sure his love is as unconditional as he's been accustomed to. 

Reggie's starting to understand that they're all more complicated than he gave them credit for. 

Things were a lot easier when they were just about sex and rock and roll. 

"Let me see." Alex sounds collected and calm as he squeezes the side of Luke's neck before pulling him off of the bed. Luke slides to the floor at Reggie's feet and Alex takes the vacant spot on the mattress. 

He peels the sticky shirt up and off of Reggie, careful of the arm he's babying. It doesn't feel broken, just super sore from a kick or two. 

"Oh, Reg," Alex whispers, sad and quiet. 

Reggie can't see, but there's got to be several cuts and scratches. The pain is consistent but dull across his entire back. 

"What the hell did they do?" 

Alex's tone has Reggie looking away from his lap and towards Alex. The boy looks righteous. It's almost that look of fire he gives only to Luke, tense and fierce with something coiled tightly inside, but then it's gone and he's soft and sweet and calm again. It was so fast that Reggie's not sure if he was hallucinating it or not. 

Alex pulls a hand away from Reggie. His fingertips are bloody. He takes a shaky breath and wipes them on Reggie's already ruined shirt. 

Luke's growling and muttering obscenities about Reggie's parents. It looks like he wants to jump off of the floor, but he stays put at Reggie's feet, his palms comforting and warm where the skin of Reggie’s knees is exposed at the rips in his jeans. 

"We'll, uh- I'm gonna clean you up." Alex's voice is trembling as he digs through the first aid kit. 

"'Lex, don't cry, _please_ ," Reggie begs. He turns and grabs at Alex's—Luke’s—open hoodie to look him in the eye. 

"I'm not crying," Alex lies right to his face, eyes glassy. 

"I don't think it's as bad as it looks. It was a knife, maybe, some-” 

"A knife?!" Luke shouts before remembering the time of night. He glances at his closed door. The house stays quiet. 

"Silverware. I fell into silverware," Reggie offers lamely. 

"You didn't fall," Alex mumbles, but he doesn't seem as shaky as before when he goes back into the medical supplies. 

Reggie can't say what really happened, that this time he was looking for a beating. Deep down, he knows that he deserved it. Even deeper down, he knows that he didn't. But he's not feeling very kind to himself lately. And that's okay. It's always okay. Because Luke and Alex will be kind enough for him. 

Alex's fingers are so gentle at his shoulders again. Reggie shivers, his nerves still electrified with more than pain. 

"It's gonna sting," Alex warns before pouring rubbing alcohol down his back, starting at his neck. He uses the bloodied shirt to catch the liquid at the base of Reggie’s spine. 

Luke grabs his hands in his lap when Reggie stiffens. He holds them tight, his fingers turning white at the knuckles and his rings digging into the flesh. Reggie likes that ache more than the burn on his back. 

“The bleeding’s pretty much stopped,” Alex whispers as he pats Reggie dry. “Just gonna bandage them up.” His hands are fidgeting, jerky as he reaches for a box of band-aids. “I’m really sorry, Reggie.” His voice is thick. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Reggie panics, letting Luke keep his hands as he turns to Alex. 

“I know. I’m just—We...” Alex takes a calming breath and opens one of the bandages. “I’m sorry,” he settles on the words, shrugging and focusing on his task. 

Alex is slow and methodical, treating Reggie like glass as he opens and applies band-aid after band-aid. The sheer number of them overwhelm Reggie. He must be worse off than he thought. 

Luke seems to sense his sorrow. He's breathing deeply, probably trying to calm himself down. It's hard for Luke to do nothing. He's a man of action. He’s the one who gets things done. He pulls Reggie’s hands into his space and kisses his knuckles, a careful _peckpeckpeck._ He sighs into Reggie’s palm, heavy and wet. He’s almost crying. 

And Reggie _is_ crying because Alex claims one of his hands as his own and kisses the fingers there too. 

It’s just like they were with each other in the garage. It's full of love and care and reverence. It feels like dedication, a promise, and it’s for Reggie now. 

“I love you guys.” 

He knows how they will hear it, knows how he used to mean it—brotherly—but he also knows it’s just not that simple anymore. 

"We love you, too.” Both of them answer in tandem. They don’t even hesitate to offer something so precious to Reggie. He cries a little harder. He hides his face in his shoulder, and Luke takes pity on him. 

“I’ll get you something dry to wear.” He pulls away from Reggie’s lap slowly, and Alex lets him go as well. Reggie’s hands are empty again. 

Luke crawls to his open closet and digs through a pile on the floor. He hops up and strides over with a pair of sweats that are probably actually his and not Alex’s. 

“Up you go.” Luke tugs on him by the forearms and Reggie hisses sharp when his shoulder protests the movement. “Fuck, sorry, sorry,” Luke winces and lets go. “I got it. Just stay still.” 

Reggie stays seated, eyes shut and enjoying the little tickles along his back as Alex moves from spot to spot with ointment. His eyes fly right back open, though, when Luke starts going for his fly. It's not like any of the daydreams Reggie’s entertained. It's much more familiar than he’d imagined. It's startling that it’s not so startling. It’s normal. 

Normal turns to not-so-normal again when Luke drops to his knees and yanks at the wet fabric of Reggie’s skinny jeans. He had almost forgotten about his erection. He's only halfway to hard by now, but the bulge in his boxers is just enough to feel traitorous. Luke doesn’t say a word, though. Reggie’s too scared to look at him, but he guesses it’s okay because Luke’s hands don’t stop their work for a second. He frees him of his boots and socks, followed by his pants while Alex opens one last bandage. 

They’re both so focused and caring. There’s no judgment at all. Reggie might cry some more. 

“Hey, Reg, scoot into these,” Luke mutters softly. Reggie flinches. He hadn’t been paying attention, but Luke’s got the dry sweat pants halfway up his legs already. He lifts off of the bed just enough to let Luke get them up his waist. They aren’t too long at the ankle. Definitely Luke’s. 

“Done,” Alex declares beside him. Before Reggie can twist away, there’s a careful kiss dropped right to the center of his back. “All better now,” Alex murmurs into his skin. 

And goddamn if it wasn’t true. Reggie’s spine was vibrating with the affection of Alex’s lips on his skin. That’s two kisses in one night. Luke’s tenderness wasn’t new. He kissed cheeks and manhandled Reggie more than what could be considered normal, but Alex was a rare treat. 

His dad kicking the daylights out of him was so worth it. 

Before they climb into bed, Alex tosses him his own pink hoodie from its discarded spot on the floor. Reggie shrugs into it slowly, careful of his arm. As soon as the fabric settles against him, he feels a little high on a different kind of drug than he’s used to. Apparently sharing clothes was one of his new cravings. 

Reggie follows their lead, letting Alex maneuver him onto the mattress while Luke gets a big blanket from the closet. Reggie tries not to think about Luke’s drying cum a few layers below him. He kind of loves it. But he kind of wants his brain to just hush, though, because focusing on Alex is more important right now. He’s pulling Reggie in, laying him on his stomach and cushioning his head on his chest, a delicate movement like Reggie is something to be protected. 

Alex is strong and firm against Reggie’s cheek. Luke appears at his other side, slinging an arm across Reggie’s lower back. It's so low, avoiding his cuts and scrapes, that Luke’s pretty much cuddling Reggie’s ass. 

“Why don’t you just stay here forever?” Luke offers, his voice soft as it tickles the nape of Reggie’s neck. 

“They’re my parents,” Reggie replies, weak and unsure. He knows they’re awful, but they weren’t always that way. People can change, and Reggie’s stupid enough to wait and see if his parents can. He’s loyal, dependent to a fault. Needy, the sad part of him thinks. 

Luke and Alex probably understand. Alex still tries with his mom and dad no matter how cold they get, and Luke crawls back after every fight with his mom, even though they’ve been getting worse as he grows older and thoughts of college, or lack thereof, loom over their heads. 

Reggie watches Alex’s chest rise and fall, trying to match his breathing. There are bites and bruises decorating the skin he can see under the unzipped hoodie, decorations from Luke. Reggie wishes his own injuries were born out of love. 

He shuts his eyes as Luke tangles their legs together. Alex joins in the mess until they’re a jumbling of limbs. Reggie settles down. He just wants to sleep and enjoy the touch of his friends. He tries to ignore the revolting feeling in his stomach, thinking they’d never touch him again if they knew that he had spied on them. They wouldn’t trust him anymore, and that hurt worse than any punch he’d ever get to the face. 

He had to be done now. For real this time. 

Their love for him was more important than his obsession for their love of one another. 

What he’s been doing, fixating on their sex life, was not addressing his real issue. It was like taking heroin for a headache. The problem is not his libido, or his brain. It’s his heart. 

He’s in love with them. 

Reggie wants their cocks and their mouths, yes, but... 

He wants to link ankles with Alex under the desk in Math. He wants Bobby to gag and tease him every time Luke writes a song about him. He wants to lie across their laps at movie night, Alex’s hand in his hair and Luke’s warm on his thigh. He wants kisses goodnight and kisses good morning. 

Reggie wants _them_. 

His parents have made him fragile and desperate for affection and so fucked up in the head. 

“Soon we’ll be outta here, Reg,” Luke whispers into his shoulder. Maybe he sensed Reggie’s discomfort. He's sure, at least, that Alex did. The drummer is carding his hand through Reggie’s hair while Luke talks. “We’ll be on a tour bus. You and me will bunk together.” 

“Hey! Why wouldn’t you bunk with me?” Alex complains, his voice friendly but whiny. His hand never slows down in Reggie’s hair. 

“You snore, babe,” Luke giggles, squeezing a little at Reggie’s waist. 

“I do not, you asshole." 

“You sorta do,” Reggie mumbles into his chest. 

“That’s no way to treat your Florence Nightingale.” Alex tugs on his hair, just a squeeze of his fingers. Reggie has to remember how to breathe. It's as good as he imagined. His guilt, though, keeps him from getting hard against Alex’s thigh. 

“It’s not a bad snore,” Reggie consoles him, nuzzling into Alex’s sternum just because he can. “It’s more of a super cute whistle,” he adds sincerely. He’s too tired to control his mouth filter. He's so warm and comfy. 

Alex's hand freezes in his hair. Reggie’s suddenly very awake. Did he fuck up? 

He was too honest. Too _flirty_.

He glances up at Alex, but he’s not looking back at him. He's looking above his head at Luke. Reggie can’t see the other boy’s face, but they are having one of their silent conversations, probably about Reggie being weirder than usual, but the discussion must end in Reggie’s favor—thank god—because the petting starts back up. 

“Get some rest,” Alex mumbles. Luke snuggles into Reggie’s side and curls the blanket higher up onto them all. 

Reggie falls asleep with a sore back and an aching arm, but he’s warm and content and surrounded by _AlexandLuke_. Alex’s fingers tickle his scalp until he begins to whistle-snore, and Luke drools a little onto Reggie’s borrowed hoodie. 

This is good. This is enough. 

Reggie has them. Not in all of the ways he’s discovered that he so desperately wants, but in all of the ways he _needs._

He can do this. He can get better. 

He’ll be okay. 

Hopefully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the angst. As always, though, I promise a happy ending. I just can’t seem to write porn without feelings and at least a little plot. 
> 
> The final chapter will probably be posted two weekends from now. I wanted to stay on a weekly schedule like I had with [Leather Bound](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27637063/chapters/67620604) but this fic is turning out to be much larger in length than that had been. Each chapter is almost double, if not triple, the size of Leather Bound’s. I am working on the last chapter of this fic. My first draft of it is already at 10,000 words and I am not even finished yet. It’s going to take me some time to finish it and then make sure it’s ready to post. 
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for the comments and the support! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I’m excited to share the finale with you when it’s ready. 
> 
> [-Lynn](https://lynnymars.tumblr.com/)


	4. Relapse and Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is 21,000 words. _Grand_ finale indeed. I hope you all enjoy it! Please remember to comment and let me know what you think :)

Reggie’s been doing okay.

Not great. Not perfect.

Just okay.

He’s been doing better.

In the weeks that follow his breakdown—and beat down—he gives himself a reprieve from his anguish and guilt. The cuts on his back become scars and he does his best to avoid his parents and any other bad influences. He doesn’t drink or smoke or punish himself in any other way for enjoying Alex and Luke’s presence.

When he woke up, warm and safe in their arms, Reggie had gained a little perspective. So what if he can’t fuck his friends? He couldn’t fuck them before and he had been doing just fine. Sure, he didn’t know he was in love with them before, but sometimes life was just complicated. It was part of growing up, and he never wanted to become a scared, angry adult like his mother or father. So, he had to learn to move on, or, more specifically, move backwards.

If he tells Alex and Luke the truth, he could lose them. If he stops his bullshit and pretends that it never happened, then nothing changes at all. He’ll have them just like he always did, and that was going to have to be enough.

He spends a lot of time with the band, not caring what he sees or doesn’t see. He’s determined to be the old Reggie, the pre- _AlexandLuke_ Reggie. He smiles and laughs and, as Bobby would say, tries to balance his chi. He avoids negativity.

Masturbating has helped. He had started focusing on others so much, random girls and then two very specific boys, that he’d forgotten what it was like to just have his own hands and his own thoughts. Granted, so many of his thoughts turn into Alex and Luke when he’s got his palm against his cock or his fingers shoved up his ass—thanks for that lesson, Alex—but he doesn’t hate himself for it. He comes, usually more than once if he’s riding high enough on endorphins, and then he goes on with his day.

Sometimes he thinks of being found out, imagining Alex’s angry scowl whenever he’s washing the evidence off of his hands or Luke’s look of betrayal whenever he’s changing the sweaty sheets he’d been jacking off on, but he tries not to dwell.

One step at a time.

He’ll be normal again soon if he tries hard enough, pretends long enough.

Maybe he’ll meet a cute girl—or guy—that he can make a real connection with, someone he’ll want just as much as he wants Alex and Luke.

Probably not.

But dreaming about it was nice. It was a good reminder that a future was possible. Sometimes he felt like he’d be a teenager forever. The growing pains and responsibilities felt endless, but some of the responsibilities were good distractions at least.

Like homework. Simple, boring, normal homework. 

Reggie’s been trying to catch up on everything he’s been neglecting. He may or may not be flunking two classes. He’s been really sidetracked lately, but he’s determined to get back to a routine. He sits in the living room, all of his books and binders laid out across the coffee table and floor. It’s tedious but he feels more pride with each over-due assignment he completes. Reggie’s frustrated but in the math-sucks kind of way instead of the I-wish-Luke-would-suck-my-dick kind of way. It’s refreshing.

At least, it was, until he hears his father shuffling down the stairs.

Reggie should have just sat outside on the beach. He would have gotten more peace, but he was sure his parents would be asleep most of the day. They’d gotten in late from the bar the night before. Maybe his dad wouldn’t be in a bad mood, just a little hung over. He hadn’t heard any arguing when they stumbled in. His mom even kissed him on the cheek before following his dad to the bedroom. She had missed and kissed his eye instead but the gesture was sweet. Maybe everyone in the Peters household was making progress in their own way.

Reggie keeps his head down when his dad appears in the doorway. He shuts the textbook in his lap. He’s finished with algebra. He’s not really sure if it’s right, but it’s done. His dad speaks just before he closes his hands around his—Alex’s—Chemistry notes.

“There’s not a single pussy in here.”

That’s a weird conversation starter, Reggie thinks. He glances up with a tight smile, trying to seem pleasant for his dad, but then he almost loses his lunch. His father is holding a magazine. It’s a copy of _Freshmen_ that Reggie stole because he was too chicken-shit to buy it for himself. It’s absolutely full of pictures of guys fucking and stories about—you guessed it—guys fucking. Reggie can’t think of a single excuse as to why he’d have it in his room other than the truth. Wait—

“Why were you in my room?” Not his best move, antagonizing the beast, but it’s a valid question.

It’s a question his dad ignores. He was probably in there looking for cash.

“You were already turning out to be such a disappointment,” his dad starts, balling up the magazine in his hands, “and now you’re a fag too?” He sounds tired. He sounds sad, like Reggie’s fucked up _his_ life.

Reggie doesn’t have to finish his English homework to know that’s probably ironic.

“It’s none of your business.” Reggie stands when his dad inches further into the room so that he can’t tower above him.

Luke was right. He didn’t owe his parents anything. Reggie wouldn’t have to be here much longer if he didn’t want to be. He thinks of Luke when he squares his shoulders in confidence, but then he hears Alex’s voice telling him to “get the fuck out” when his dad’s expression turns dark and he advances on Reggie.

The man abandons the porn mag, tossing it amongst Reggie’s notebooks on the coffee table, and then makes a grab for Reggie’s collar, but Reggie’s too fast. He’s motivated to actually not get the shit kicked out of him this time. He hops over the back of the couch and makes it to the front door with only a boot shoving at his ass.

His parents have another reason to hate him now. He’ll just add it to the growing list.

The sun is bright in the sky as Reggie strolls to Bobby’s. His dad knowing about his sexuality should be a big deal, but the man’s opinion didn’t feel that important anymore. Reggie gave up on it a long time ago. Alex and Luke’s opinion, though? That mattered. He wouldn’t go to either of their places this time. They’d just ask what happened, he’d tell a shitty lie, which would end up with him admitting to having the magazine, which would lead to him admitting he may like guys, which would lead to them asking when and how he knew and—yeah, not a path he felt like going down. Maybe later. In, like, twenty-five years.

Bobby’s place isn’t too far from his. The walk is short, but he’s sweating by the time he gets to the front door, filled with more adrenaline than he previously thought. He’s grateful when he only finds Bobby home with no one in the studio. He’s been better about being near Alex and Luke, but Bobby is by far the easiest company. He’s Reggie’s favorite friend.

Reggie supposes, if he thinks about it enough, Bobby is his only friend. Alex and Luke are something else now, even if they don’t know it, but Bobby is still Bobby. He’s goofy and pompous but endearing. Reggie likes that he’s not super emotional. He doesn’t take part in the deeper conversations, but Bobby shows love by being there. He’s a caretaker and a provider, though he prefers to be silent about it. If the guys thank him for always being chill about using his garage as their studio, and often their shelter, he gets bashful and changes the subject. Bobby’s always late to practice—literally always—but he shows up with a smile and food for the group every time. Bobby is consistent and dependable, and Reggie needs that.

He’s thankful for the effortless friendship when he asks Bobby about staying in the garage for a while. The guitarist doesn’t ask a single question before agreeing.

“It’s your home too,” is all he says, shrugging and reaching out to bump fists.

And Reggie remembers why he loves Bobby too, in his own special way.

“You wanna talk about it?” Bobby looks uncomfortable when he walks into the garage with Reggie. He pushes the hair out of his face and watches Reggie out of the corner of his eye.

“I came here ‘cause I knew I wouldn’t have to,” Reggie admits, plopping down on to the couch.

“Thank god,” Bobby laughs and puts his hands on his knees. “So, uh, there’s extra blankets and a toothbrush in the bathroom closet. Mini fridge has plenty of shit,” he rambles and starts backing towards the exit. “Let me know if you need me to kick anyone’s ass or help with burying a body.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and his smile turns more genuine.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Reggie smiles back, but then gets distracted when he finds one of Luke’s band tees shoved between the couch cushions. He rolls the fabric around his fingers.

“You sure you’re good, Reg? For real…” Bobby looks hesitant to continue. “Lately you seem a little, I don’t know… different.”

“I’m good enough.” Reggie holds the shirt in his lap. “Promise.”

It’s true. He’s getting there.

“Alright,” Bobby relents. He looks like he might say more, but he and Reggie both know he won’t. “I’m gonna head out. I got a date. I shouldn’t be back until late tonight. Hopefully not until morning.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Nice,” Reggie chuckles. “Have fun, and… Thanks, again, for being so cool about me staying here.”

“No need to thank me. I’m _effortlessly_ cool. It’s literally not a problem.” Bobby points at him with finger guns and gives Reggie a wink. Reggie rolls his eyes with a smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at practice,” Reggie waves Bobby off as the boy disappears down the driveway.

The studio is quiet, peaceful. He unravels Luke’s shirt in his lap and rubs out the wrinkles, tracing the _Poison_ logo with his fingertip. Reggie decides on a shower and a nap, and if he chooses to wear the shirt for the occasion there’s no one there to make fun of him for it. He finds a pair of Alex’s boxers in a drawer full of extra clothes in the bathroom. If he chooses to slip those on too, no one needs to know that either.

Reggie falls asleep up in the loft, wrapped in a blanket and buried deep in a pile of pillows he threw around to form a makeshift bed.

He’s cozy, warm and dreamless, when shit hits the fan again.

Reggie wakes up slowly, vaguely becoming aware of a change in the studio. The sky outside the little window near the roof is black. There’s rustling below him on the main floor, a creak of a spring, and then a moan. A very familiar moan.

“Fuck, Alex. Hurry up…”

Reggie stares at the ceiling, eyes frantically darting between cobwebs and the remnants of an old bees nest. He clutches the blanket close to his chest. Maybe he hadn’t actually woken up yet, maybe he was just dreaming, because Alex and Luke couldn’t possibly be—

“Hold still, baby.” Definitely Alex, syrupy sweet. “Almost done.”

Reggie covers his ears. This cannot be happening. This shit was like a curse following him around. He did the right thing, damn it! He came here to be alone.

And now he’s definitely not alone. Alex and Luke are somewhere below him in the studio and they certainly aren’t here for band practice. Although, Luke _is_ singing.

“Yes, yes,” Luke pants, matching the rhythm of a slick sound Reggie’s trying not to hear.

He’s got the shittiest luck.

Do they just fuck everywhere they go? Alex probably keeps lube in his damn fanny pack.

Reggie should just force himself back to sleep.

He’ll count a few sheep while Luke takes it up the ass.

No problem. He’ll be out in no time.

“Come on, just fuck me.” Luke whines, impatient and pleading.

Reggie pulls his hands away from his head. Luke is too loud for him to drown out.

His life is ridiculous.

Reggie’s been doing good. So good. Maybe this was a test?

He rolls onto his stomach and eyes the edge of the loft. Maybe he should look. Just to see if he could handle it.

Maybe he was over it.

Yeah, he doesn’t believe himself either.

An anxious mix of depressed and resigned, Reggie wiggles to the end of the balcony, careful not to lift himself into view. He’s a pro by now, he thinks.

Alex and Luke are below, making themselves at home on the couch again. This time, however, they have the bed pulled out.

Reggie’s missed most of the setup, deeper in his slumber than he thought, but he seems to have woken up for the main event.

Luke is glorious, naked and spread out on all fours with his ass on display for Alex—and Reggie—while Alex is only missing his shirt. The drummer is perched at the end of the mattress at Luke’s feet and his hands are busy working his boyfriend over. Alex has three shiny fingers pushed into Luke’s hole. Reggie can see the stretch so well with all of the lights on above them. The view is perfect this high up, like he’s got box seats at the theater. Luke is thrusting back into Alex, but Alex keeps him steady with one large hand curled around the meat of his ass. Alex pushes in and then pulls out, in and out, slow and deliberate with a twist of his wrist.

If this is a test, Reggie’s going to fail. His skin feels hot and itchy, and he’s humping into the blankets beneath him before he can remember not to move his hips. How is he this hard already? His sense of control vanishes like it never existed. He wishes he were drunk or sad, a fuzziness to pin his bad decision making on. He wants to blame his erection on something other than his traitorous heart and libido.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” Alex grins and bites at the side of Luke’s thigh.

“Fuck me,” Luke growls and hangs his head between his shoulders.

“Is that all?” Alex wonders, his fingers stalling when they’re buried knuckle-deep. His expression melts into something fond and thoughtful.

Luke stiffens. Both he and Alex still. Alex looks more concerned now, but he doesn’t take his fingers out of Luke.

Reggie holds his breath.

“I want,” Luke starts, pushing back into Alex’s hand again, “Reggie.”

Reggie’s ears pop and his heart squeezes tight in his ribcage.

“I want Reggie,” Luke moans loud and clear.

Alex _smiles_ and—

“ _What?!”_ Reggie screams, the breath he was holding in barreling out in a rush. He sits up straight and meets the eyes of Alex and Luke down below.

They all stare at each other for about four of Reggie’s rapid heartbeats and then he’s ducking back down and hiding under the covers like he’s six years old again and it’s thundering.

“Reginald…” Alex sounds—Well, Reggie’s not sure how he sounds. The blankets are muffling him too well and Reggie can’t really think anyway and he wants to cry or run or maybe just go back to sleep.

And why did Luke moan his name like that? He had to have misheard him. It’s his overactive imagination. Reggie dreams about them a lot, but it usually ends in a nightmare fueled by guilt. Maybe that’s what this was. Maybe he’ll wake up any second with his cheek smashed in his Algebra book back at home.

Or it’s _worse_. If it’s real, if Reggie’s not conjuring this up to hurt himself, if he’s finally been caught, then maybe they are getting back at him for watching. Maybe they’re making fun of him.

He’d totally deserve it. 

“Reggie.” Luke tries this time. “Come down here.”

“No, thank you!” Reggie curls the blanket tighter around his body and rolls over to lock himself in. He can’t get enough air into his lungs, and he’s not sure he wants to.

He’ll die up in this loft if he has to.

“Pleeease,” Luke whines. It’s not a sex-whine like he begged Alex with. It’s a do-what-I-say-because-I’m-adorable whine.

Reggie can’t resist. He’s weak. He’s accepted that about himself.

He army crawls back to the edge of the floor, wrestling with the blanket the whole way. He peeks over. Luke is sitting up on the bed, covered with a sheet now. Alex is standing, anxiously twisting one of his rings around and around with shiny lube-covered fingers. Reggie’s gut churns and his dick perks back up a little. He’s getting dizzy. There’s too much input.

“If I come down, our friendship will be over,” Reggie whimpers. His voice sounds small in his own ears. Luke laughs—Reggie can’t tell if it’s mean-spirited or just because he thinks Reggie’s being dumb—and Alex glares at the brunette before turning up towards Reggie.

“That’s not even an option, Reg. Please come here and talk to us,” Alex pleads, nervous and sweet like he wasn’t about to fuck Luke silly, like he doesn’t know Reggie’s world is crashing and burning.

He’s going to lose everything, every bit of joy he’s gotten lucky with, and it’s his own fault. Because he can’t keep his fucking eyes to himself or his dick in his pants. He’s like his father. He can’t control his own head or his own hands. He’s stupid and not built quite right. His enthusiasms and fascinations and energy used to make him proud. It made Reggie feel special as a kid, but now he’s grown, and they’ve turned ugly and destructive.

Reggie huffs and crawls to the ladder. He’s going to go down there and take what he deserves. Alex and Luke don’t _look_ mad, but he wouldn’t blame them for swinging a fist or, even worse, telling Reggie they’re disappointed in him. What if they hate him?

“This isn’t a b-big deal.” Reggie stumbles down the ladder. His muscles are wound so tight that he can’t get them to cooperate. “I didn’t really see anything,” he tries to lie. It’s a reflex.

“Well, then we were doing it wrong,” Luke snorts.

“Luke, zip it,” Alex hisses. He turns to Reggie, his words more gentle. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

That’s such bullshit. How could this be okay?

“We didn’t think you’d be upset,” Luke tilts his head, studying Reggie.

Reggie would love to know what he finds in his search because he’s confused as hell.

“Me? Why aren’t _you_ upset?” Reggie yells. He takes a step back when Alex reaches his hands out. “I was- _I’ve been spying on you_!” His eyes sting with shame. He might as well put it all out there.

This is it.

“We know.” Alex and Luke wear matching looks of guilt.

But that’s not right. _Reggie’s_ the guilty one.

He lied to his friends. He invaded their privacy in every way he could think of. He hurt them, even if they couldn’t feel it at the time. He’s a _bad person_. Reggie’s sure of it.

“You know…” Reggie’s head feels thick. He can’t comprehend what they’re saying. It’s like his first day in Spanish class all over again.

“We’ve known the whole time,” Alex explains, sitting on the bed next to Luke with his shoulders slumped.

Reggie sort of wants to run for the door. And he kind of wants to sit at Luke’s other side, kind of wants comfort. He stands there, in the middle of the room, frozen, unsure.

None of this is what he imagined. None of it is matching the nightmares he’s created for himself.

“We saw you that night at the party,” Alex continues. He lets Luke hold his hand when he starts tapping it on his thigh.

“You did?”

That couldn’t be true.

“I mean, you walked right into the doorway and then jumped back, Reg. It was so fast but it was definitely you.” Alex’s smile is tender. “We didn’t mean for you to see, but Luke forgot to close the door—“

“I’m pretty sure that was you.”

“Definitely not,” Alex dismisses his boyfriend, keeping his eyes on Reggie. “I was gonna stop Luke from… doing his thing… but I noticed you _stayed_.” Alex laughs, airy and maybe a little exhilarated.

“ _I_ didn’t know,” Luke adds snidely with a shake of Alex’s hand.

“If I said something, you would’ve ruined it. You wouldn’t have been cool.”

“I’m fucking cool as a cucumber, Alexander.” Luke bites at Alex’s shoulder, slow and not as angry as he’s trying to sound.

“Please, you came so hard that you cried when I told you. I don’t know why you’re still bitching,” Alex argues, smiling something sweet and playful.

Reggie gawks at them. It’s weird standing in the open with Alex talking like that, weird that Reggie’s allowed to be listening. The bickering should be bizarre right now, but it’s so them that Reggie feels warm despite what he thinks he deserves.

His heart is thumping so hard. He’s not sure it’s all fear anymore.

“H-How did you know I stayed?”

“Reggie, you were holding onto the door jam. I bought you that ring for Christmas,” Alex looks towards Reggie’s hands. “I’d know it anywhere.” He’s quieter then, more fond. _Fond for Reggie_.

No way.

“And that night after the club,” Luke chimes in excitedly, scooting to the edge of the bed and barely keeping the sheet on his lap, “we wanted you to follow us. Alex came back to get you—“

“Yeah, ‘cause you were pouting about him not taking the bait.”

“Whatever,” Luke untangles his fingers from Alex’s and stands. “I was throwing around sex-eyes all night on stage. I was so sure you were gonna follow.” He moves into Reggie’s space, slow and careful with the blanket knotted around his waist.

“I-I lost sight of you,” Reggie whispers, blinking doe-eyed at Luke this close. “Until Alex found me.” His spine shivers, remembering how Alex slid his palm beneath the fabric of his shirt at the bar.

It’s been a game the whole time. Reggie was playing _with_ them. It’s confusing and exhilarating and he thinks he’s about to let himself smile.

“That time you showed up at my window,” Luke starts, shifting into Reggie’s space so that their toes touch, “I hoped… I thought it was gonna be a better night.” Luke looks disappointed, haunted in the same way he’d been when he had kneeled and held Reggie’s hands that evening he came to them bloody and burdened.

Luke reaches for his hands again, but Reggie flinches away, putting a few inches between them. Taking Luke’s comfort doesn’t feel like something he deserves. He doesn’t feel like he’s earned it.

Luke smiles timidly, giving Reggie room to breathe. Reggie thinks he’s so frustrating, finding a way to soothe him even when he’s trying to reject it. It works, though, because he’s Luke, and he’s good at everything. Reggie lets him creep just a little closer again. 

“Honestly, I can’t believe you didn’t say anything sooner,” Alex leans back onto his hands on the bed, drawing their attention to him. Reggie thinks the line of his bare torso looks really nice. “Like, that time in the locker room, we thought for sure that you were gonna—“

“I didn’t get to see any locker room sex!” Reggie shouts, and, oh, he’s pouting a little. He tries to remember to focus. He’ll be bummed about it later when he decides if he’s allowed to be or not. 

“I’m, like, ninety percent sure someone was in there with us,” Alex insists.

He sits up straight and stares at Luke. Luke stares back.

They both blink.

“Anyway…” Luke shrugs and turns a sweet smile on Reggie again, leaving Alex to overthink on the bed, “We’re sorry—“

“ _You’re_ sorry?” Reggie starts, loud and sudden. Luke takes a step back. “I spied on you _a lot_. I watched you and stalked you. I’m a fucking pervert and you just—“

“Hey,” Alex is suddenly there, his hand hot and a little sticky on the back of Reggie’s neck. He urges Reggie to peek up at him with a firm grip. There’s no escape. “We all fucked up. You used us, sure, but we used you too.”

“We were all preying on each other!” Luke steps into the huddle, bright and energetic.

“That’s… actually comforting,” Reggie decides when Luke slips his hand around his wrist.

“We want you, Reggie,” Alex insists, low and intense with his fingers tight on Reggie’s neck. “We don’t just want you watching us. We want you _with_ us.” Alex’s hand slides down Reggie’s shoulder to squeeze at the width of his arm. He glances down and then up.

Reggie’s pretty sure he’s checking him out.

This can’t be happening.

“Like now,” Luke adds with that same fond look he always has for Reggie, a look Reggie’s starting to think—to hope—is attraction. “We want you _now_.” 

None of this is right. He couldn’t possibly be getting rewarded for his shitty behavior. He couldn’t possibly be getting _what he wants_.

He steps out of the huddle.

“What does it make me, though, if I want you back?” Reggie stammers, his eyes start to sting. The panic is scratching its way back up his throat. It feels tight. “I like girls, always have, but I don’t _want_ them anymore. I want _you_ , like, all the time. It’s all I think about. It’s just selfish, needing both of you when- I’m not okay. What if I’m never-“

“You’re ours.” Alex is there again so fast that Reggie gasps, his words dying in his burning throat. He blinks at the blonde, who grabs his face with both hands. “You’re ours if you wanna be. That part can be easy. The rest… It comes with time, Reg.”

Alex’s thumbs swipe at the tears on Reggie’s cheeks when they fall.

He’s cried more in the last few weeks than he has during his whole life. Love is fucking hard.

“Remember the first time I got fucked with for being gay? Billy Trainor spray painted ‘fag’ on my locker. The whispers I got, the goddamn stares.” Alex shakes his own head, voice thick but his smile calm. “I felt like my world was ending, like I was a freak, but you remember what you told me? What you and Luke taught me?”

Reggie grins, his mouth opening to answer, but Luke slides up behind up. His arms circling around Reggie, his voice quiet and tender.

“We’re never alone,” Luke whispers into his hair, his hands passing over Reggie’s hips to grip at Alex’s sides.

“’Cause we always have each other,” Reggie finishes, pushing his shoulders back to press into Luke’s chest. He’s trapped between them like that night on Luke’s bed, safe and cared for and understood.

Alex’s palms grip Reggie’s face firmly, holding his head up like he’s something to be proud of. It should be absurd, with remnants of lube on Alex’s fingers and Luke naked except for the weird makeshift skirt, and _it is_. It’s so stupid and so _them_ that Reggie feels right at home.

“I know what it’s like to be different. _We_ know,” Alex sighs. There’s so much in his eyes, fear and kindness and sympathy.

And Reggie forgot that for a while, forgot that _AlexandLuke_ weren’t just sex and love. They are friendship and hopes and doubts and laughter and anxiety and loss and family. They are everything. They’re Reggie’s everything.

“I thought you were gonna hate me,” Reggie admits, putting his chin to his chest. It sounds dumb to his own ears now, with the memory of Luke moaning his name ringing around in his head along with their new declarations, but his doubt, his self-hatred is louder.

“Never,” Alex promises. He lets Reggie’s face go, sliding one hand down his arm as Luke circles around to stand with them again. “We should have used our words,” Alex laments.

“It’s my fault,” Luke admits. His hand moves to tickle at Reggie’s palm. “I started all this by putting the idea in Alex’s head about inviting you in, and then you saw us and it was- It was so _hot_ , Reg.” Luke stands so close that his breath is warm on Reggie’s cheek. “I told ‘Lex to wait it out. To play a little because it was …” Luke trails off. His hand finds Reggie’s, locking in. Alex holds his other and takes Luke’s free one.

The three of them stand hand-in-hand-in-hand.

“Fun,” Reggie decides. He looks up with a long overdue smile. “It was fucking fun!” Reggie shakes at their hands. “It was weird and scary and hot and stupid and fucking _fun_.”

Reggie laughs, delirious and relieved and so high like never before.

“Yes! Exactly! Fuck the embarrassment,” Luke agrees, giggling with Reggie. “We can be messed up together. It’s the way it’s supposed to be.” He bumps the tip of his nose on Reggie’s shoulder.

And just like that, Reggie feels better. He feels whole, like his pain never existed. He’s terrified and comforted by how simple it is, by how much power Luke and Alex hold over him, by how much power he’s given them. But isn’t that the way it’s always been? Since middle school they’ve been permanently, codependently linked. _AlexandLuke_ have always been his sun, and Reggie just orbits around them. Existing for them, with them, is his greatest purpose. It’s his biggest source of pride, being chosen, being kept by Alex and Luke.

“So, what now?” Alex wonders. He looks nervous. Luke takes the lead.

“You can leave, Reg. Or we can all get dressed and pretend like nothing happened. Or you can just watch if that’s your thing. It’s your choice, man. Anything you want.” Luke is so Luke about it. He’s intense and sincere and supportive, but he’s also nude. Reggie knows what’s under that sheet.

This is really not a choice.

“I wanna stay.”

“Okay…” Alex says, waiting for more.

“And I wanna be naked.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Luke groans, getting even further into Reggie’s space. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” his lips brush the corner of Reggie’s mouth, “if that’s cool?” He tugs his hands free from Alex and Reggie to hold Reggie solidly by the neck. He waits, so close that Reggie feels his lips when he answers.

“Um, yeah, it’s coo—“

Luke doesn’t wait longer than he has to before diving in. He kisses Reggie like he’s hungry, like Alex hasn’t been feeding him enough. He licks and nips at Reggie almost immediately, and Reggie struggles to keep up. The energy is new, but somehow familiar. Luke is strong and super touchy—there are hands on Reggie’s ass now—and he smells like home instead of some random girl’s perfume. Reggie learns this new dance quickly, always Luke’s eager partner. He licks at Luke’s tongue and then scrapes his teeth against it when he tries to retreat. He scratches at Luke’s side with one hand, his other still glued to Alex.

They’re right there, warm and sturdy against his palms. They’re real. Reggie’s finally got them.

God, he hopes he gets to keep them.

“You said something about being naked,” Luke reminds him, breathing into his mouth and licking at Reggie’s bottom lip just because he can. Reggie shivers. Every nerve he’s got is tingling.

“Impatient,” Alex chides fondly. He squeezes at Reggie’s hand. Other than that, Alex remains still, strangely stoic. Reggie thinks he’s breathing pretty fast, though. His bare torso gives it away.

“How are _you_ being so fucking chill when he looks like _this_?” Luke exclaims and gestures wildly at Reggie’s entire body like he’s something spectacular to behold.

That’s really nice.

“This is my shirt.” Luke gets back in his face and runs his fingers down Reggie’s chest, his rings catching in the worn fabric where it wrinkles at his waist. Luke smiles, a little prideful and majorly wicked.

Reggie guesses his newfound clothes-sharing kink is not a one-way street.

“Are those my underwear?” Alex’s demeanor changes, like he’s really studying Reggie now. He nudges Luke out of the way and stands right in front of Reggie. He’s so close Reggie can see all of the nearly-faded bruises Luke has left across his chest and collarbone, most of them blotchy on top of his many beauty marks. He’s so pretty that Reggie almost forgets the question, but then Alex’s fingertip is curling along his thigh to inch under the hem of the boxers he’s wearing.

“Yeah,” Reggie gulps. He could deny it, but there’s an “A.M.” sewn right into the tag because Alex is adorable and organized like that.

Alex hums, something _not_ adorable and a little scary, and then he’s grinning. Reggie’s a beginner here but he knows this either isn’t good or it’s really, really good. They may end up being one in the same.

Alex pinches at the fabric along Reggie’s thigh and tugs just enough to force him forward so that they are standing groin to groin.

“Can I have ‘em back?” Alex yanks harder and Reggie yelps—he’s pretty sure Luke is giggling somewhere beside him—but then Reggie’s thoughts are on fire because Alex is kissing him without warning.

Luke was easy, like they’d always been one second from kissing during their whole friendship. Alex was different. Alex is new. He’s taller than Reggie, bigger and intimidating once he’s got a hold of him. Reggie’s never given up control like this, but he surrenders when Alex’s hands find his hips and hold on tight.

Alex kisses him more gently than Luke had, but somehow it’s more intense. He’s slow and methodical when he licks at Reggie’s lip, a tease, a test. Reggie opens right up and he feels electrocuted. It’s not a shock, like when he had fixed his amp in the rain that one time. It’s a steady, exhilarating stream through his bones, making him feel taught and on edge.

It’s scary, but the good kind of scary that makes Reggie jumpy yet giddy. He only realizes he’s hard again when Alex lets him go, his cock aching but his body suddenly cold.

Just like that, Reggie’s got whiplash because Alex isn’t touching him anymore. He’s all there was and now there’s nothing. And it’s a rush. No wonder Luke is obsessed—fixated—and so brazen about it. Reggie hopes he’ll teach him that: freedom. Reggie misses fun. He misses not thinking.

“What do you wanna do first?” Luke is back with them, slinking under the arm that Alex holds out for him.

Well, isn’t _that_ a question? Reggie wants it all. Can he touch them? Can he put his tongue in Luke’s ass? Would Alex fuck him? Could Luke teach him that thing he does with his throat?

“I know it’s hard to choose,” Luke is in his head, like always, “but we’ve got all the time in the world. We got time to try _everything_.” He steps into Reggie’s personal space, and, shit, Reggie’s never going to get used to it, not when Luke looks at him with his pupils blown that wide.

“Can, um… Could I—“ Reggie shakes his own head to clear the mess of doubt forming in there.

“Just say it, baby,” Luke whispers sweetly as he traces Reggie’s cheek with the tip of his finger. The pet name makes Reggie’s stomach roll. “It’ll feel good. You can’t say anything wrong.” The fingertip rubs at Reggie’s lip, pulling the flesh away from where he’d been gnawing at it with his teeth.

Alex is watching them, careful, thoughtful. He looks how Reggie remembers Alex-1, like he’s trying to solve an equation on the chalkboard, but this Alex is half-naked and glowing, and Reggie’s sure there’s only ever been one Alex anyway. _Their_ Alex.

“Can you teach me how to blow Alex?”

Alex gasps. It’s almost a squeak. It’s really cute and really hot and Reggie really loves him.

Luke’s grin grows wide and playful and probably a lot sinister.

“Sure.” He slinks in close enough to push their chests together, but then he’s _kneeling_. “But it’s easier if I show you first.”

Reggie thinks he’s going to get a close up of the show he adores, but then Luke is pulling at Reggie’s borrowed underwear and Alex is stepping away to do the watching.

Reggie gets a head rush so intense he’s got to hold onto Luke’s shoulders, which are the perfect height _because he’s on his knees for Reggie’s cock_.

Luke doesn’t wait to get at what he wants. His fingers work fast and sure, like on the strings of his guitar, as he rips the boxers off of Reggie, who stumbles to let Luke toss them aside. Reggie is hard and bare in front of the people he’s been trying so desperately to hide from. 

“Can I?”

Reggie looks down when Luke asks, but he’s not looking back at him. Luke’s looking at Alex for permission. Because Alex is in charge of him.

Alex is in charge of _them_.

“Yeah, love. Go ahead.” Alex shoves his hands into his pockets and steps back for a better view. Reggie stares at him, not sure of what he’s looking for—maybe for help—but Alex just smirks and glances back down at Luke.

Reggie quickly finds out why.

Without preamble, Luke licks a long stripe up the length of Reggie’s cock. He hums like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever put in his mouth. Figures he’d make Reggie feel good with a single sound. He’s the king of uplifting him when he’s down. Reggie’s pretty sure he’s gonna be “up” for a very long time.

Luke gives a blow job with his entire body. His own hips wiggle when Reggie squeezes his shoulders and the sheet trying to keep him modest fails completely and pools around his knees. When Luke’s mouth glides to the head of Reggie’s cock, his hand closes around the shaft. The calluses on his fingertips tickle a lot like Reggie’s own. There’s familiarity there, but so much is new too.

The width of Luke’s tongue is a common sight for Reggie, usually seen when they share the stage, but now it’s there to catch the tip of Reggie’s dick when Luke tap-tap-taps it against him. He’s playing with Reggie’s junk. He licks and sucks, wild and random and energetic. His teeth scrape the delicate skin right where Reggie’s cock meets his balls. He smiles up at him when Reggie grunts. Reggie’s seen most of Luke’s baby teeth fall out and be replaced by that perfect smile. His whole life was leading here and Reggie couldn’t have ever guessed it.

He calms down enough to thread his fingers into Luke’s hair.

“Fuck, Reg,” Luke moans like Reggie is doing anything but standing there and holding onto Luke for dear life.

Luke licks and licks and licks until Reggie is shiny and wet. He closes a fist around him and strokes twice before opening his mouth. Reggie thinks he’s finally going to get in there, but then Luke is diving past his cock and mouthing at his groin and then up to his stomach. He rubs his cheek against the wisps of hair below Reggie’s belly button and then turns sharp and sudden to bite at Reggie’s skin where his thigh meets his hip. Luke is so frantic—so high on Reggie—that it’s hard to tell where he’s going next.

Reggie whines out a deep breath of frustration. Alex chuckles somewhere behind him.

Alex is so different than Luke. He’s all control, pacing—stalking, really—in a circle around them. It’s a creepy version of his anxious model-strut. He moves more like an animal than a person. Alex keeps his hands in his pockets and his eyes on Luke at work. Reggie catches a glimpse of Alex when he comes around from behind him. Their gazes lock for just a moment, but then Reggie’s eyes slam shut when Luke finally stops teasing.

Luke slides Reggie’s cock over his slippery tongue and pushes deep until Reggie can feel the extra grip of his throat.

“Shit, _shit_ ,” Reggie laughs, delirious. He’s seen Luke do this but it’s still a marvel. It’s something else when it’s his cock in that mouth.

“He’s something, isn’t he?” Alex’s voice is so close, his breath hot in his ear. Reggie can’t see him. He can only feel him from behind. His hands find Reggie’s hips as he presses in tight.

Alex hooks his chin over Reggie’s shoulder and lifts the bottom of his shirt to watch Luke deepthroat him. It’s a twisted version of the night at the house party where Alex had held up his own shirt to see Luke at his feet. Now it’s Luke’s shirt on Reggie and Reggie’s cock in Luke’s mouth and Alex’s hands on Reggie’s abdomen and everything is all warped and connected and Reggie’s as high as a kite. 

Luke coughs a little around Reggie. His eyes water, but his enthusiasm doesn’t wane. Reggie’s cock gets slicker and Luke lets the spit drip out of the corners of his mouth as he moves forward and back. He slides down _slowslowslow_ and keeps eye contact with Reggie. Luke’s tongue pushes past the cock in his mouth and the tip tickles at Reggie’s balls.

“Holy fuck,” Reggie groans and flinches so hard his stomach aches.

Alex laughs against the back of his neck and uses a hand to pet at the top of Luke’s head.

“He’s perfect, right?”

Reggie can only nod. His mouth won’t work. He’s watching Luke, who’s watching him, and the infuriatingly sexy jerk is somehow smirking with a dick in his mouth. “Perfect” is the exact word he would use. Luke is a prodigy in so many ways. He makes most things look easy, and he makes all things look fun. And fun is exactly what he seems to be having on Reggie’s cock. He pulls back, smiling and humming and tapping the tip on his tongue again. He’s frantic and getting messier by the second. Reggie swears he can feel Luke vibrating as if it’s his own cock getting the attention. 

“He loves playing with it like it’s a fucking toy,” Alex chuckles again. His voice is low and thick and pure sex as he nudges the back of Reggie’s neck with his nose. “You’re handling him so well, Reg,” Alex commends him, rubbing his cheek into his hair, tactile and so warm.

Reggie doesn’t know what he’s doing “well” other than standing there and not coming, but maybe that is exactly what Alex is congratulating him for. And, holy shit, it’s like the game he and Luke had played with each other in the garage when Reggie watched. Alex definitely appreciates Reggie’s resilience. The pride Reggie feels burns hotter than his arousal. Personally, he was doing his best not to come just to make this night last longer, but if it’s gonna make Alex whisper like that, then he’ll never ever come again.

“It’s his favorite place,” Alex’s voice drops lower than Reggie’s ever heard it, “on his fucking knees,” he growls and fists the fabric of Reggie’s—Luke’s—shirt tighter and raises it up to Reggie’s chest. “I can’t wait to figure out all of your favorite places.” Alex’s palms flatten on Reggie’s skin to rub over his nipples just as his mouth finds a soft spot right below Reggie’s ear, his teeth scraping sharp and quick.

_Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come._

Reggie whines when Alex suddenly disappears from behind him, leaving saliva cooling on the skin of his neck, but then Alex is back just as quick. He stands at Reggie’s side and moves with a more Luke-like speed as he rips the shirt over Reggie’s head, leaving him as naked as their friend on the floor.

Reggie gets a head rush when Alex yanks Luke back by the hair. No one’s touching Reggie now. There’s a light panic in his chest, a feeling that something’s ending before it’s really begun, that same nightmare feeling he was getting used to, but then Alex’s palm is warm and wide as it rubs at his lower back.

“Open,” Alex commands. It’s not for Reggie. It’s for Luke. 

The brunette is dazed and held strong by the hair in Alex’s fist. He opens his mouth wide for his boyfriend. Alex spits quick and loud onto Luke’s tongue.

Reggie moans at the sight and scrambles to hold onto Luke’s shoulder again, his other hand going for Alex’s arm, whatever he can grab to help keep him standing. Alex is smirking and, oh, he’s pushing Reggie’s buttons on purpose.

Alex is an asshole.

Alex shoves Luke back towards Reggie’s groin.

Alex is awesome.

Luke keeps his hands to himself as he dives back in, only using his wet mouth to get Reggie’s cock back in its new favorite place. He tongues at Reggie’s length, smearing Alex’s spit. 

Alex is breathing rapidly when he goes around to snuggle at Reggie’s back again. His chest heaves into Reggie’s shoulder blades, the coldness of his gold chain tickling Reggie’s skin. He presses himself flush against Reggie from head to toe. He can feel Alex’s heartbeat thumping along with his own, the drums and the bass, the rhythm section coming together.

“Fuck his face a little,” Alex orders, his voice way gentler than the one he just used on Luke. Reggie sputters at the instruction, getting lost at the mere idea of it and not easily finding his way back to focusing. Alex’s hands slide along his hips again.

Reggie looks down at Luke, who keeps his mouth open and ready—like a good boy, Reggie thinks. The head of Reggie’s cock makes a pretty shape as Luke twists to let it push at the inside of his cheek.

“I- I don’t-“ Reggie stammers, frozen and overwhelmed by the visual input of Luke and the very physical input of Alex behind him. He can feel the boy’s erection, persistent and large through the fabric of his pants against Reggie’s ass.

“Here,” Alex’s breath is damp on his shoulder as he drops a quick kiss there. Then his fingers are digging into the flesh of Reggie’s hips and thighs.

He pushes Reggie and himself forward and then back, like a dance. Alex is really fucking good at dancing.

“There you go,” Alex murmurs as Reggie’s cock disappears deep into Luke, who holds his head still without being told.

Alex thrusts Reggie forward with the weight of his own hips now, grinding on Reggie’s bare ass as they move together to fuck Luke’s throat. It’s so tight and warm, and Reggie feels tingly when Luke moans softly around him and starts to palm at his own cock.

Reggie’s eyes shut. He bites his lip and groans quietly. Alex makes a disapproving sound into the back of his neck, but he doesn’t stop the deliciously slow sway of their hips. He does, however, let go of Reggie with one hand to cup at his jaw. A thumb pries Reggie’s mouth open and then there’s a nose tickling at his scalp.

“Let me hear you,” Alex whispers thick and ragged as he pushes his front more firmly into Reggie, rubbing his erection into the cleft of Reggie’s ass.

Reggie hesitates for just a single breath, thinking of all the times he had to be quiet, but that’s enough for Alex to get impatient. He snaps their hips forward fast, pushing him all the way into Luke’s throat brutally quick, and then he holds them there. Luke takes it easily, looking mischievously up past Reggie’s shoulder at Alex, and then he’s _swallowing_ around Reggie’s cock and humming a super pretty sound. Reggie _yells_.

“Oh my god, _fuck_!”

He squeezes at Luke’s hair and reaches back to grab at anything of Alex’s. He closes his palm around the back of Alex’s neck and arches into his chest and ruts into Luke’s mouth with little jerks. He’s not sure if it’s him or Alex moving. Reggie knows for sure though that Alex is laughing softly against his neck, clearly satisfied with himself.

Reggie’s about two seconds from failing and coming, but suddenly Luke is gone and his dick is really wet and getting cold. Luke sits back on his heels, hands dutifully in his lap.

“Wanna try?” Luke smirks up at him, placing a sweet kiss along Reggie’s hip, and then sways to the side, eyeing Alex’s pants where they are pressed into Reggie’s backside.

Reggie gulps and tries to get his body working again. He’s not sure how successful he’s going to be on his own, but he’s _not_ on his own. Luke’s there, tugging him down by the hand to kneel. Reggie panics once he’s at eye-level with Alex’s groin. He wasn’t paying the right kind of attention to Luke’s lesson, but Reggie’s the king of winging it. He’s sure he’ll be fine, especially because he has a partner. Luke is right next to him, where he’s really always been.

Luke doesn’t wait for Alex to make a move. He reaches for the blonde’s pants and yanks on them, tossing the fabric away and nearly tripping Alex with his eagerness. Alex makes a little noise of disapproval, but he’s smiling so Reggie’s pretty sure he’s not actually irritated.

Reggie freezes again, watching Alex’s cock bounce free in front of him. It’s shiny and hard, probably enough to be uncomfortable, and Reggie’s intimidated. What if he’s a disappointment to them? He’s seen what they can do. There’s a lot to live up to.

“He’s easy,” Luke whispers conspiratorially to Reggie as he curls his fingers around Alex’s length. He bumps shoulders with Reggie, knocking him out of his stupor. “Do whatever you want and he’ll come apart.” Luke twists his palm around Alex, slick with his own spit and Reggie’s pre-cum.

Luke has an arrogant smirk, and Alex is glaring, but Luke is probably right about him because Alex moans high and loud as soon as Reggie takes a curious lick at his tip while Luke holds him steady. It’s different than eating out a girl, but not that unfamiliar to Reggie either. He has a cock and he’s jacked off enough and licked at his own hands enough—thanks for that lesson, Luke—to be acquainted with the taste. With himself, Reggie doesn’t think about it too much one way or the other, but the taste of Alex has his whole body tingling.

This is intoxicating, a personal thing Alex is sharing with him. It might be Reggie’s new favorite thing only after the taste of Alex’s and Luke’s tongues.

As if he beckoned him with the thought, Reggie feels Luke lick at the corner of his mouth as he moves to lap at Alex’s shaft.

“Ugh, _yeah_ ,” Alex juts forward a little at the sight. Reggie figures it must be good. It certainly _feels_ good, with Luke taking turns licking at his lips and Alex’s dick. It’s sloppy and perfect. 

Reggie closes his mouth around the head and sucks, just a gentle pull to test the waters. Alex sighs happy and his abs clench in front of Reggie’s eyes.

“Take however much you want,” Luke murmurs into Reggie cheek, kissing the bulging skin when Alex’s cock presses towards him from the other side. “I like choking on it.” Luke shrugs like that’s a normal thing to say, and maybe it is for them now. 

Luke keeps his head close, his breath fanning over Reggie’s face and Alex’s cock, where he uses a steady grip to guide him. Reggie flattens his tongue and feels the weight of Alex in his mouth, letting more of him in slowly. He’s hardly taken much of Alex at all and he already feels full. He feels _good_. He can see why Luke’s gotten so addicted.

One of Alex’s hands settles into Luke’s hair and the other finds Reggie’s cheek. His fingers trail toward his mouth, pressing at the edges of his lips where they wrap around Alex’s cock. Luke loosens his grip on Alex to spit into his palm, and then he’s back, shinier and slicker at the base while Reggie keeps suckling the tip.

“Beautiful,” Alex whispers down at them.

It’s not just for Luke this time, and it’s not just for Reggie. It’s for _LukeandReggie_ and that’s an amazing combination that’s got Reggie’s head spinning. He thinks he might come right there on the floor.

Reggie dives forward, delirious and hungry, and he gags a little as soon as Alex’s cock gets too far back in his throat. Maybe it should have deterred him, but Reggie’s cock _jumps_ , heavy and thick between his thighs, because, yeah, Luke is onto something. Pushing himself, gagging on Alex’s dick, is _hot_. He feels naughty but accomplished, like being bad is being good.

Reggie pushes Alex deeper again, choking less, but still wet and loud. His own ears ring with the sound. Luke takes his hand out of Reggie’s way and Reggie tries to take more of Alex. Spit escapes the corners of his mouth.

“Shit, Reg. You’re as impatient as Luke,” Alex moans, exasperated but still fond as he pets at Reggie’s cheek.

Alex teases him, but Reggie can tell he likes the enthusiasm. The boy’s stomach twitches sharp and rapid. Reggie lets his cock pop free to lick down lower. He sucks wet and hard on Alex’s sac, and then scrapes ever so gently with his teeth. Alex’s hand finds his hair and Luke gasps next to Reggie.

Luke is watching him, eyes wide and his cock fucking into his own fist.

Reggie decides that he’s probably going to get a passing grade in blow jobs. These two seem to give bonus points for showmanship, and Reggie is a performer, after all.

Reggie grins, feeling more sure of himself than he has in a really long time, and then leans back to spit sloppily onto the side of Alex’s cock. He moves to suck at him again, but his mouth misses when Luke pulls him back by the neck. Instead of dick, Reggie’s mouth is full of Luke’s tongue, which is just as good. The boy whines and moans uncontrollably into the kiss, licking at the spit decorating the edges of Reggie’s lips.

Reggie loses control of the kiss in all of two seconds and he doesn’t give a single fuck.

Luke eats the taste of Alex off of Reggie’s tongue. Reggie feels his world tilting a bit and realizes Luke is tugging them sideways. He’s confused for just as long as it takes to feel Alex’s cock—it’s already so familiar to him even with his eyes shut—tap at his cheekbone, sticky and slick. Then Reggie gets it.

His eyes open to find Luke’s already staring him down as they move their kiss onto Alex’s dick. It’s messy. Luke drools on purpose to make it wet, which makes Alex get really loud, and Reggie curls his tongue underneath Alex’s shaft to tickle at Luke’s on their way up and down, up and down, up and down.

This is probably Reggie’s favorite duet with Luke ever, following his lead, matching each of his sounds and mirroring all of his movements. Alex thrusts into the circling of their tongues.

“God, Reggie,” Luke moans and holds Reggie by the side of the neck to take a breather. “You’re so…” Luke, the best writer Reggie’s ever known, is at a loss for words. He seems to give them up entirely, pulling Reggie in for another kiss, this one slower and softer.

“You wanna fuck Luke?”

Reggie startles in Luke’s hold and stares up at Alex, who looks a little drunk, flushed and happy. His grin is teasing, though, as he strokes at his cock and watches them on their knees in front of him.

Reggie’s got whiplash from the redirect, the taste of Alex still heavy with Luke’s spit in his mouth. Alex asks the question so casually, like asking if Reggie wants Reese’s Puffs for breakfast. Luke doesn’t seem as surprised. He looks up at Alex and they share one of their quiet conversations. Reggie still doesn’t get the language, but, god, he’s going to learn, isn’t he? He’s never wanted to study something this much, to know it so badly, to memorize a book from front to back.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Reggie struggles to catch his breath. His throat feels only a little less scratchy than his skin. He’s hot all over. “But…”

He wants to be in Luke. He wants so many things, but there’s something he needs to see up close, something he needs to see in the light instead of the shadows.

“What is it?” Alex asks, patient and curious with his hand still slowly working at his cock.

“Can I…” Reggie rubs his palms on his thighs and tries to concentrate while Luke keeps kissing at his collarbone. “Can I watch you fuck him?” Now there’s teeth behind the kissing.

Alex’s expression turns into a predatory smirk. Reggie feels like he might want to run away. He’s got a stronger urge, though, to stay exactly where he is, on his knees for Alex.

“You like watching, huh?” Alex looks smug.

“You guys are beautiful,” is all Reggie can really say as he stares up at Alex and Luke hides his face in his neck.

Alex’s bravado drops into something sweet and boyish for just a moment, but then his smirk is back as he tickles at Luke’s shoulder with his fingertips.

“You heard Reggie, pretty boy.” Alex pinches at Luke’s earlobe and tugs. “On the bed.”

Luke leaves Reggie reluctantly, with one more wet kiss on the base of his throat, and then he’s clamoring onto the wrinkly mattress of the pull out bed and getting on all fours again. He’s waiting and eager before Reggie even gets both of his feet on the floor.

Reggie is shaky with excitement as he kneels at Luke’s side. He laces his fingers together, trying to keep steady, and watches Alex get the bottle of lube from the pile of clothes they had left on the ground—it _was_ in his damn fanny pack.

“I worked him over pretty good already,” Alex informs him, his voice calm but his chest still rising and falling with hurried breaths. “Look,” he mumbles, climbing onto the bed behind Luke. He pulls at Luke’s ass with his fingers, revealing his hole, shiny and wet.

Reggie watches, mesmerized.

Alex prods at Luke, dipping the tip of his middle finger in with no resistance. He grins at Reggie when his boyfriend whines and flinches backwards.

“More,” Luke pleads into the fabric of the sheet against his face.

“I don’t know,” Alex jokes, massaging at Luke’s hole now with two fingers but not diving in. “Should I?”

Reggie holds his breath when Alex looks to him. He’s not used to calling the shots when he’s watching them, but now he’s so close. He’s so involved. He’s _right there_. He can feel the heat of their bodies. He can smell the salt on their skin.

“Y-Yeah,” Reggie nods, staring down at Luke’s ass without shame now. “Yes, please.” He wants to see Alex split Luke open wide.

“Hear that, Luke? Reggie knows how to ask nicely,” Alex sighs dramatically, rubbing at Luke with three shiny fingers. “I guess that makes you lucky.”

Luke moans loud and long when Alex shoves his fingers in all at once.

“You should thank him,” Alex commands over the noise, twisting his wrist and playing with Luke as if he’d never stopped since Reggie had woken up.

“Thank you, Reginald,” Luke responds with pure sass, but his smile at Reggie is sincere when he presses his cheek to the bed and stares at him.

“You’re welcome?” Reggie smiles back bashfully, a bit unsure of his role, but then he remembers his favorite part to play.

Watcher.

He watches Alex finger-fuck Luke, unhurried and agonizing. He watches the muscles in Alex’s arm twitch and tense with each jab. He watches Luke’s spine bend, delicious and long as he tries to get his ass higher and his head lower, presenting himself as much as he can to Alex—and to Reggie.

Luke makes so much sense like this. He’s brave and boisterous but vulnerable with his art. And this? This is definitely art: the slope of his back, the sweat pooled in the dimples at his waist.

Reggie decides he appreciates art. He’s a sophisticated guy.

He bends down and licks across the entire width of Luke’s back. Luke shudders, but Alex is the one he gets a reaction from.

“Fuck,” Alex groans, leaving one hand to work at Luke and using his other to grab Reggie by the hair. He tugs him in to lick Luke’s sweat off of Reggie’s tongue.

Reggie whines when the grip in his hair gets so tight that his eyes burn, but his dick twitches against his thigh and he wants-

“Sorry! Sorry, shit…” Alex lets him go, leaving Reggie dazed with his scalp tingling. “Luke likes- but you’re _not_ Luke. I’m-“

“Alex, Alex. Hey…” Reggie murmurs softly, reaching for the blonde’s shoulder. He rubs at the skin until Alex’s babbling subsides and his muscles relax. “It’s okay. Like, _really_ okay.” Reggie assures him, blushing but steady.

“Knew it,” Luke mumbles from below, smirking with the cockiness of someone not bent over and spread open for two of his best friends.

“Hush, Luke,” Alex chides, swatting Luke’s ass once with his palm and sending a crack through the room that makes Reggie’s stomach tight, but then Alex is turning back to Reggie, sweet and thoughtful. “I don’t wanna ruin this. We’re kind of… We’re pretty messed up.” Alex’s smile is weak and a little too weary for Reggie’s liking.

But Reggie knows what to do here. This is the Alex he’s familiar with, nervous and unsure and overthinking. Reggie’s missed this, missed being the chill one between them. It feels like eons since he was the one reassuring a worrywart Alex.

“You can’t fuck it up if I can’t,” Reggie promises him, leaning in to kiss at the corner of Alex’s mouth—because he can just fucking do that now—and nuzzling his nose against the other boy’s. “Everything you do is great, from what I’ve seen. And, again, I’ve seen _a lot_.” Reggie kisses Alex’s lips, just a gentle press.

“You haven’t seen _everything_ ,” Luke mutters into the bed and pushes his ass back towards them, forcing Alex’s stilled-fingers a little deeper and making Alex’s hard cock rub at the back of his thigh. Alex doesn’t even react. Reggie aspires to be that cool. 

“I guess he’s suffered enough,” Alex whispers loudly into Reggie’s cheek, kissing him there before pulling back.

Reggie stays close, shifting on the bed to perch beside Alex and watching as he scoops up the bottle of lube to drip an obscene amount onto his cock. Reggie thinks he just likes the mess. He props his head on Alex’s shoulder and stares down as the boy strokes himself wet and loud. Luke’s thighs shake at the noise. Reggie guesses that’s a big reason Alex’s is so dramatic about it.

Alex takes his fingers out of Luke but keeps pulling at his own cock, leaving Luke alone on the bed.

“’Lex…” Luke complains. His legs stay open wide for Alex.

“Okay, okay,” Alex soothes him with a gentle voice and a teasing touch with the tip of his cock. Luke’s body shivers and his hole clenches at the emptiness in anticipation.

Reggie only remembers to breathe because he can feel Alex moving his own air in and out as his chest rises and falls under Reggie’s cheek.

Alex pushes in so slowly that Reggie actually feels horrible for Luke. He sort of wants to take Alex by the hips and force him in. He knows Luke could handle it, knows it’s what he wants, but Reggie remains the dutiful observer for now. He keeps one hand on Alex’s lower back and the other massages at his own thigh. He won’t touch his cock, even if it’s verging on painful. He’ll come if he even looks at it.

“He’s so easy, Reg,” Alex murmurs, turning his mouth to speak against Reggie’s temple when he’s finally gotten his cock all the way inside of Luke. He holds still, letting Luke wriggle and shake against him. “So needy,” Alex teases loud enough for Luke to hear. He grips the boy by the waist. “So fuckable,” he adds with a sharp jerk of his hips.

Luke gasps loud and desperate and clutches at the sheets on either side of his face, and he holds on and takes whatever Alex will give him. He doesn’t complain or joke or beg as Alex starts up an agonizingly relaxed pace. He pulls almost all the way out, giving Reggie a perfect view of the grip Luke’s ass has on his dick, and then pushes back in at the same speed. He starts a gentle rhythm, his body swaying forward and back, taking Reggie with him on the ride as he keeps his face pressed into Alex’s collarbone to watch.

Reggie’s not sure what changes from one moment to the next—he’s sure hoping he’ll have all the time in the world to learn—but Luke’s groans get louder, his pitch higher and more distressed. Alex picks up his speed—finally—and starts to fuck Luke with an intensity Reggie’s only ever seen him use on his drums. It verges on brutal, the sound of Alex’s balls slapping into Luke’s on each thrust, wet and slick with lube.

The magazines don’t do this justice. They didn’t do anything for Reggie, really, other than give him things to imagine Luke and Alex doing, but _this_ is not his imagination. This is real and three-dimensional. They aren’t far away through a window or a cracked door. He’s with them. He can hear them and smell them and taste them and touch them. 

Reggie watches the damp skin of Alex’s cock disappear and reappear in the clench of Luke, his pace so fast that he shimmers in the light. More art, Reggie thinks, as he reaches out to place his hand on top of Alex’s where it’s holding Luke by the hip. Their fingers slot together.

Alex turns to moan, almost as loud as Luke, into Reggie’s hair.

“I’m gonna- “ Luke pants below, raising up on his palms to push back onto Alex, “ _Reggie_ , come here,” Luke whimpers and struggles to hold out a hand for him without falling back into the bed. Alex fucks him so hard that he tumbles forward anyway. Luke’s attention stays on Reggie, though, as he puts his hand back out and twists to look at him.

Reggie tenses, wanting to go but wanting to stay.

“Go ahead,” Alex kisses breathily at Reggie’s head and untangles their hands at Luke’s hip.

Something inside of Reggie unravels at the gentle order and his body just moves, no thinking, no concern. Reggie crawls to lie at Luke’s side, and he’s really appreciative of the change of view. He can see Luke’s cock bounce beneath him. It juts into his abs every time Alex fucks forward, leaving a glossy trail of pre-cum between his stomach and the tip of his dick. Reggie’s mouth waters. He adds sucking off Luke to his bucket list.

“Hey,” Luke greets him sweetly when Reggie rests his head beside his. His face is flushed and his hair is sticking to his forehead. Reggie can barely see the color of his hazel eyes past the black of Luke’s pupils, but Luke is staring at him like he’s his sole focus and not the cock in his ass.

“Hi,” Reggie whispers back, pushing his cheek into the bed.

The furniture shakes with Alex’s power, but the fabric feels nice and soothing on his skin. Reggie’s starting to feel high, like that moment right before you fall asleep and your body feels like it could sink or float and it doesn’t know which to do.

“What’s it like?” Reggie wonders, sliding his hand up to hold Luke’s when the boy collapses face first against the bed, only held up by the waist where Alex’s grip stays brutal.

“It’s…” Luke starts, squeezing his eyes shut just as he squeezes Reggie’s hand, “It’s amazing, Reg.” His voice is weak and high-pitched. He bites his bottom lip until it’s bright red. Alex doesn’t let up behind him. “So full. It’s so- _ah_ ,” Luke’s eyes open when Alex changes the tune of his hips for a few beats. “It’s so… _everything_.”

Reggie knows the look in those eyes. He’s only ever seen it when Luke’s about to write their next masterpiece, but now it’s for a different kind of performance, a different kind of creation, and Reggie loves watching Luke create. He stares at him, the sweat trickling down his brow and the spit slicking up his lips and the stretch of his neck when he pushes against Alex and arches his back.

“I’m- “ Luke’s breaths get even more ragged and he loses his words.

The sound of Alex’s grunts fill Reggie’s ears and Luke whines an answer to every noise. Reggie’s not sure where he wants to look when Luke comes, but then Luke’s _not_ coming. Alex is fucking him hard and fast one second and then sliding out and leaning away from him in the next. 

“No, no, no,” Luke pleads, desperate and squeezing Reggie’s hand so hard it hurts. “’Lex, come on,” he whimpers, pushing his ass back but not lifting his head to argue. He’s got no fight left in him.

Reggie feels bad for him, but he’s also thrilled to watch Alex pull his strings up close.

Alex smiles, breathless and evil, and he grabs at Luke’s ass. He pulls Luke open and spits—of course—into Luke’s used hole.

“Your turn.” That smile is turned on Reggie now.

And, _oh._ Alex is pulling _both_ of their strings.

Reggie’s glad he was already lying down. His entire body shivers.

“Fuck!” Luke shouts and then giggles. He’s got some energy back. He probably took it from Reggie, who’s still frozen in place. “Yeah, Reggie.” He tugs their hands towards his face and kisses sloppy and wet at Reggie’s hand and arm. “Please, please,” he mutters repeatedly into Reggie’s skin. He wiggles his upper body just enough to reach Reggie’s mouth. “You gotta fuck me, please, please, please.” He kisses each word, needy and wild onto Reggie’s lips and jaw.

“Y-Yeah,” Reggie stutters out, trying to keep up with Luke’s kisses. “Okay.”

Luke hums happy and content and then he’s bending right back over for round two, suddenly not so mad about the orgasm Alex stole from him. 

Reggie starts remembering how to move when Alex takes him by the wrist and pulls him up to get behind Luke again. The sight is even more overwhelming this time. Luke is _used_ , his ass red where Alex was holding him too hard and his hole covered in lube and the spit Alex just gave him.

It’s probably the hottest thing Reggie’s seen so far.

Alex watches him patiently, and even Luke has gone quiet except for his loud breathing. Reggie carefully reaches forward. He drags a finger from Luke’s balls up to his final destination and prods at the stretched skin. He plays with him a little, pushing one finger in knuckle deep. He so fucking warm inside.

Luke gasps and Reggie can tell he’s holding back, maybe trying to be good, trying not to scare Reggie off.

He’s not going anywhere, not unless they tell him to.

“He’s ready when you are, Reg,” Alex reminds him quietly, reaching out to join him on Luke’s ass. Alex ignores Luke’s moan and slides a finger into his hole beside Reggie’s. He guides them in and out slowly.

“Fuck me, please,” Luke begs again, sounding small. His thighs are shaking now. He’s running out of patience.

His hole clenches down on their fingers. God, he’s going to be so tight.

This is new territory for Reggie. He’s never fucked anyone in the ass. But Luke seems eager and comfortable, and Reggie’s not sure how he could mess this up since Alex has already gotten him so close to the edge. Still, though, he hesitates.

“Here,” Alex murmurs, pulling them both out of Luke. He stands up and gets behind Reggie, wrapping an arm around his abdomen. Reggie anchors his hands there. “You got this,” Alex coos before he spits, reaching his other hand round to hold Reggie’s cock and spread his saliva. Reggie jerks at the stimulation. “It’s just us,” Alex reminds him, his lips soft against the skin below his ear again.

Luke whines, high and scratchy when Alex guides the tip of Reggie’s cock into him.

“You got it,” Alex mutters the reminder into Reggie’s neck and lets his dick go so Reggie can ease himself in the rest of the way, with Alex strong and supportive at his back.

Reggie holds his breath and pushes into Luke way slower than he knows he can handle, but Reggie’s trying really hard not to come. Luke’s gripping him so tight—like impossibly tight, Reggie is sure. 

_Not yet. Not yet. Not yet._ His head whispers in a voice that sounds just like Alex’s when he had Luke pinned and his cock tight in his grip on this very couch while Reggie watched from the driveway.

Alex slides away from Reggie with one last kiss to the back of his head, and then he settles down next to Luke to take up Reggie’s role of watcher. Reggie hopes he doesn’t disappoint.

He puts his shaky hands on Luke’s hips and starts a slow rhythm as his nerves die down. Reggie knows this, knows sex. He knows the thrust of his hips and the warmth around his cock, but some things he doesn’t know: the tightness of Luke’s ass, the sharp angles of his muscles as his shoulders roll at each of Reggie’s movements, the gentle tap of Reggie’s balls against Luke’s every time he presses them together.

It’s new and exciting and Reggie is absolutely hooked already.

“Don’t hold back, Reg,” Alex gasps, grabbing at his own cock with a devious glint in his eyes. “Give it to him.” Alex grunts and strokes at his dick as he crawls up to kneel next to Luke’s head.

Reggie follows the order. He’s not even sure he could deny it if he wanted to try. His body seems to belong to them now.

Luke moans loud and appreciative when Reggie fucks into him harder. He pulls almost all the way out and then pushes back in deep every time. He guesses he’s doing okay because Luke’s moans and curses turn into senseless babble and whines.

Alex tugs him up by the hair, forcing Luke to scramble to put his hands on the bed to stay stable. Reggie thrusts forward hard, making it difficult. Alex _did_ say not to hold back.

“How’s it going, baby?” Alex teases Luke, keeping his grip on his hair tight and putting his face so close to his.

Reggie’s hips stutter and he tries to resume his rhythm.

Alex has _that_ voice, and this time Reggie’s right there to hear it up close while he uses it on Luke. He’s literally in the _AlexandLuke_ bubble now, no barriers, no doors or walls or windows.

“’Lex…” Luke whimpers and tries to lean in for a kiss, but Alex won’t let him move, his grip on his scalp too tight.

“It’s what you wanted, right? Reggie’s giving you what you’ve been waiting for.” Alex licks at the corner of Luke’s mouth, pulling away before Luke can get anything out of it. He barely even tries that time. He’s gone completely slack, letting Alex hold him up and Reggie use his hole. He’s submitted entirely.

He’s so beautiful.

“Tell me you like it,” Alex growls and lets go of his own cock. He stares down at Luke and Luke stares back with wide eyes.

There’s so much going on between them that Reggie can only hope to understand but his brain isn’t working at the moment. All of his focus is on his dick _in Luke’s ass_.

“Say it, baby,” Alex coaxes Luke, pressing his forehead into his. “Tell me it feels good.”

“It feels s-so good,” Luke whines into Alex’s mouth, his words breaking up through the thrusts that Reggie gives him.

“Tell me you love it.” Alex shakes Luke’s head just a little.

“I love it,” Luke insists eagerly.

“Say you love his cock in your ass.”

Reggie moans louder than Luke.

“I love his cock in my ass,” Luke pants and Alex loosens his grip enough to let Luke rest his face in his neck.

“Faster,” Alex orders Reggie, dark and, of course, smirking as he pets Luke’s hair like he hadn’t been the one yanking on it.

Reggie doesn’t know if he _can_ go faster, but he puts his energy into it, a singular focus that he usually only taps into when he jumps around on stage. He grips Luke’s hips so tight that he knows it hurts because his own knuckles burn. He bends his knees a little more to change his angle so he can get more leverage and—

“Holy _fuck_!” Luke yells and then opens his mouth, holding his tongue out towards Alex.

Alex pushes him down by the back of the head, forcing his cock all the way into Luke’s mouth with one smooth jerk of his hips. As soon as he’s stuffed full at both ends, Luke’s entire body shakes so hard that Reggie’s sweaty palms almost lose their hold on him. Luke moans around Alex’s cock and pushes back into Reggie’s dick as he comes.

Somehow Luke gets tighter and hotter when he comes around Reggie. Reggie holds himself still inside of his best friend, memorizing the clench of Luke’s hole and watching the way his shoulders tense and then relax as he shakes his way through his orgasm, making his thighs and the sheets below sticky.

Reggie wills himself not to come. He’s actually extremely proud of himself for how good he is at it. He might be better than Luke. Maybe they could have a competition someday.

Reggie feels powerful as he watches Luke go lax against the bed after he slides out of him. _He_ made that happen. He made Luke—and Alex—moan and sigh and groan and gasp and growl and scream. He feels so good. He feels wanted. He feels useful.

He wants to ride this high for as long as it will carry him. He doesn’t even care about how hard his dick is throbbing. Alex seems to, though.

“You didn’t- Let me…” Alex is muttering, looking a little ragged himself, as he appears beside Reggie.

He grabs at Reggie’s cock and holds it with one hand and uses the other to palm at just his tip. Reggie’s whole body jerks. Alex’s calluses are different than his own. They are long across the palm of his hand. They tickle at the head of Reggie’s cock where Alex rubs to smear the pre-cum pouring out of him.

“Wait- oh, fuck,” Reggie gasps.

Alex’s trades his open palm for his fingertips, twisting at Reggie’s head.

“What is it?” Alex wonders, licking at his thumb to taste Reggie, so fucking casual as if he were sucking on a paper cut. 

“Can you… Can you fuck _me_ now?”

Alex goes still, his thumb between his lips, and Luke moans into the bed where Alex let him drop on his face. 

“Are you sure?” Alex tries to look concerned, but Reggie can see the excitement. He’s super flattered. “You don’t have to if- “

“Want to!” Reggie says it loud enough to startle himself, and then he’s giving Alex a dopey smile. “I really, really want you i-in me. I want… um…”

Alex tilts his head while Luke lifts his off of the bed.

“He wants you to treat him like me,” Luke guesses correctly. He’s grinning and Reggie thinks he looks pretty smug for a guy who can’t feel his legs.

“Is that right?” Alex gets a little breathless again. That predatory smile comes back. Reggie thinks it’s rad how Alex can just melt all of his insides with his face.

“I- uh…” Reggie tries to swallow the spit in his mouth when Alex wraps a large hand around his cock.

“You want me to treat you like a bad boy?” Alex clamps down on his shaft hard.

_Don’t fucking come. Don’t—_

“A good b-boy,” Reggie stutters. There’s a nervous pit forming in his stomach but he pushes through it. He can do this. “I wanna be a good boy for you,” he whispers it.

And there. There it is. It’s out there. It feels kind of shameful and sort of embarrassing and super, mega awesome.

Luke moans again and flips over onto his back. He scoots up to sit at the head of the bed and gathers the cum on his thighs to rub at his spent dick, his rings becoming glossy with it. It’s got to hurt, Reggie thinks. Luke probably likes that.

Alex loosens his grip on Reggie and leans into his space.

“You _are_ a good boy for me.”

Oh, god. He goes right into using “the voice.” It’s sexy and dangerous and purely patented Alex-2. Reggie would have to sit down if he wasn’t already kneeling on the bed. Reggie’s through the looking glass now. He stares at Alex in a trance.

“Look at you, Reg. _Perfect._ ” Alex strokes him slow. “Holding out ‘til I say, huh? Is that why you didn’t come yet? ‘Cause I didn’t give you _permission_?” The speed of Alex’s fist picks up just a tick. The blonde’s voice is raspy and Reggie’s head feels like it’s underwater.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Reggie breathes out and shuts his eyes, but then they are popping right back open when Alex kisses him. He’s devouring him, really. Reggie’s lips ache and Alex eats the moan right out of his throat.

“You’re really waiting until I say?” Alex looks at him, alive with an energy that could outmatch Luke’s.

“Luke had to be-before when, um…” Reggie hesitates to say “when I watched you jack him off,” but he gets it out. It still feels weird admitting what he’d done, like he might still get in trouble.

“God, he’s too good to be true.” Alex rubs at the side of Reggie’s neck while he glances over at Luke, who nods in agreement.

Reggie feels even warmer than before, which is quite a feat because his veins already feel like they’re on fire.

“I give Luke different rules for different times,” Alex explains, his breath ghosting back over Reggie’s lips. Alex lets go of his cock and holds him steady by the hip. “For now, though… We _could_ play a little game, if you want?”

Reggie likes games. He rocked Candy Land as a kid, and he makes Bobby cry every time they play Monopoly. He can handle a game.

“Please,” Reggie nods, his eyes never leaving Alex’s. He’s pretty sure the guy could be a hypnotist if he wanted to give up drumming.

“We’ll keep it easy for now, ‘kay?” Alex bites at his own lip, somehow sinister and sweet at the same time.

Reggie’s nervous about what Alex might consider “easy.” It looks like there are a million ideas behind those shiny green eyes. But it’s cool. Reggie’s starting to make his own mental to-do list.

“You can come as much as you want, whenever you want,” Alex tells him, his tone verging towards the sweeter end of the spectrum again, “as long as you don’t touch your cock.” And there it went, swinging right back to sinister.

Alex is smirking, Reggie is gulping, and Luke is giggling.

“O-Okay,” Reggie forces out a breath. 

“And no rutting against the bed like a whore,” Alex says, so casual again like he’s not blowing Reggie’s mind. “Those are your only rules. You can follow them, right? You’re not naughty like Luke.” Luke giggles some more from his spot at the top of the bed. “You’re better than that.” Alex glares sideways at his boyfriend before putting his attention back on Reggie. “You’re my angel, aren’t you?”

Reggie’s head spins at the pet name.

“What happens if I break the rules?” Reggie smirks, forgetting himself and feeling mischievous even though his entire body is shaking with each breath he takes. Alex’s eyes narrow, but Luke laughs some more.

“I love this already. We’re gonna have so much fun, baby,” Luke cheers, sounding so happy and sweet but looking so debauched while still rubbing at his cock.

“Behave, Luke,” Alex warns with a raise of his brow before turning back to Reggie. “Angel, look at me.” Okay, he’s sticking with the new nickname and Reggie’s heart is super full with it and he might be floating. “I’m never going to give you anything you can’t handle. You can always tell me to stop. We’re still us.” Alex leans in, his eyes going soft. “We’re all safe.”

Alright. While comforting, that’s not really an answer on the punishment front, but Reggie’s thinking that the anticipation is the whole point.

Reggie nods.

Alex kisses him quick.

“Speaking of which, the safe word is Pasadena,” Luke calls out.

“I’m gonna need a safe word?” Reggie squeaks against Alex’s lips.

“Honey, stop scaring him,” Alex teases with a quick glance at Luke, but then he’s grabbing at Reggie’s jaw. “Say the word, though, angel.” He thumbs at Reggie’s chin. “I gotta hear you say it. You gotta know it.”

“Pa-Pasadena. Got it.” Reggie can’t stop staring at Alex’s fucking eyes. Were they always this pretty?

“Good boy,” Alex pinches his chin and gets off the bed. “On all fours, like Luke was,” he orders as he walks around the other side of the mattress and starts to pull at the sheets Luke had rumpled earlier to find the lube bottle again.

Reggie moves on the bed and assumes the position that Luke had been in on his hands and knees facing the top of the bed. He tries not to look nervous because he’s really not. Not entirely. He’s so happy and turned on that it feels like his heartbeat will always be this fast and his skin will always be this flushed. He kneels right where Luke had been, where the boy’s cum is still on the sheets just like it was that night in Luke’s room. But this time it’s not a secret or something to be ashamed of. It’s right there to share with him. And he wants it.

Reggie breaks Alex’s rules already and thrusts his cock into the mess, smearing the cum on his tip and making him stickier than he already was. He moves forward and back, glancing down to watch himself play with it. It’s so hot. Luke is making more sense to him now.

Luke himself lets out a gasp above him. Reggie flinches at being caught, blushing bright red. Luke just looks at him so fondly, though. He crawls down the bed to kiss Reggie right between the eyes like this was a sweet thing he was doing and not absolutely slutty like Reggie feels. But, if he really thinks about it, slutty and sweet are probably neighbors in Luke’s head. Good neighbors. Like the kind of neighbors that watch each other’s kids and borrow a cup of sugar when-

“It rolled under the chair, ‘Lex,” Luke’s body stiffens as he looks over Reggie’s shoulder.

Reggie freezes, hoping he wasn’t going to get caught disobeying Alex before he even touches him.

But Luke winks at him and slides down the bed to lie perpendicular to Reggie, kicking his legs out across the width of the mattress. Luke mouths the word “behave” when he’s close to Reggie’s face. His eyes track Alex off to the side. He’s still searching for the lube. Reggie’s safe for now.

“Why, uh,” Reggie tries to push through the fog in his brain and keep his body still. Luke smells really good. “Why ‘Pasadena’?” He gives in to temptation and leans in to kiss Luke’s stomach. That’s not against the rules.

“Remember last spring when you broke your arm?” Luke starts, scratching at Reggie’s hair when he tenses.

The incident hadn’t been fun for Reggie. It was embarrassing, really. He had been helping his mother up the stairs after she had a bottle or three of wine and he slipped right before he got her to the top. He hadn’t fallen down far, but he did manage to cram his forearm right between two of the rails on the banister. It had led to a long afternoon in the emergency room while his mom slept it off at home. He had told the doctor that he’d fallen in the street and hit the curb. It’s the same story he told the guys. He’s pretty sure they didn’t believe him, but no one called him out on it. What’s done was done.

“I remember,” Reggie admits, resting his cheek on Luke’s abdomen while the boy continues petting his hair.

“Alex and I had tickets to a Rush concert in Pasadena that weekend. It was gonna be our first getaway. Like a real date, not just chillin’ where we always do, and you-“

“I called you from the payphone at the hospital!” Reggie tries to sit up but Luke keeps him down with his fist in his hair. “I ruined your weekend,” Reggie pouts up at Luke. He was an inconvenience to them. Of course he was.

If he had known their plans, he would have just toughed it out, but at the time he felt sad and alone and the nurse had given him a couple of pain pills that were super strong and insisted he needed someone to come get him. There was no way in hell he was going to call his dad.

“No, no,” Alex whispers and settles in behind Reggie, the bed shifting with his weight. “You didn’t ruin anything.” Reggie hears the cap of the lube click open and then shut and then open. Alex must be fidgeting with it. “Remember we ended up hanging at my place for a few days? My parents were gone and it was just the three of us.” Alex palms at Reggie’s back, his hand large and warm. “It was the best weekend ever.” He sounds wistful and Luke is smirking at Reggie.

“The first time I blew Alex was in his kitchen while you were sleeping ten feet away in the living room.”

Reggie sucks in a harsh breath, pushing into Alex’s hand on his spine and the one Luke has in his hair. 

They’ve been playing with him for so much longer than he’d thought. They’d _wanted_ him for longer than he realized. And Reggie’s starting to understand them. He doesn’t fully believe it, in his battered heart, but he’s understanding it. How hadn’t he seen it, though? He’s always so close to them. Hell, maybe he had seen it. He just didn’t know what he was looking at.

Luke chuckles and leans down to kiss the tip of Reggie’s nose.

“I fuckin’ rocked Alex’s world and he says ‘Who needs _Pasadena_?’ and it just sorta stuck around as a joke.” Luke’s smile goes soft. “Now we use it. Well, _I_ haven’t ever had to use it, but it’s there if we need it. Alex insists.” Luke rolls his eyes like his own safety is stupid.

“So- _fuck!_ ” Reggie whines and twists to look at Alex when he feels a dry finger rub at his hole.

“You ever finger yourself, Reg?” Alex prods at him a little harder.

And just like that Reggie goes from nostalgic to turned on. Then again, he’s not sure he ever really left.

“Um, yeah. After I- Yeah, I have been.” Reggie can barely swallow the gathering spit in his mouth.

“After you watched us?” Alex’s smirk is so annoyingly hot and Reggie hates him because he leaves his ass alone. “Do you like it?”

“I’d like it better if it was happening right now,” Reggie complains and pushes back into Alex. He feels the heat of his cock between his thighs.

“Mouthy,” Alex chides but grabs at the flesh of Reggie’s ass and squeezes. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna be like Luke…”

“Why not?” Reggie smiles and rests his head on Luke’s chest again. “I _like_ Luke.” He stares up at the boy.

“Like” was a good word, already known and not scary and huge like another word starting with “L”. It’s perfect for now, even if it’s not enough. Anything bigger would bring Reggie back to earth, and he enjoys floating high up in the sky where he is right now, where Alex and Luke have lifted him.

“He’s alright,” Alex agrees tenderly.

Reggie hears the cap of the lube click again and he keeps his eyes on Luke. He can’t stare at Alex being all, well, _Alex_ , or he’s going to come in a second and he’s already made it this far.

He tucks his hands under himself and lets his weight rest on Luke’s torso, pushing his ass high up for Alex when he feels a wet finger rub at him.

“Eager,” Alex murmurs and pushes the tip of his finger in.

Reggie’s not going to argue. He feels like he might die if Alex doesn’t get in him soon. He can't even be sure that he'll like getting fucked, but it's like Luke said: some things you just know in your bones.

Reggie _wants_ this.

Alex sinks his finger all the way in, smooth and steady, and, _oh_ , this is why Luke has a meltdown every time. By himself, Reggie is usually fast and amped, fuck the consequences. But Alex is so fucking good at this. He’s torturing him slowly and he’s all slippery with lube—Reggie’s gotta get some of that because he was doing it all wrong before by just spitting on his hands. Alex’s fingers are bigger than Reggie’s and he teases him more than Reggie would tease himself. Alex knows what he’s doing. He pushes in and out, in and out, and then curls his finger a little just to catch Reggie’s rim.

Reggie shivers.

Alex shoves back in and tickles feather-light at his prostate.

Reggie _shakes._

His mind goes completely blank and then boots back up and all he can think about is coming. He bends his knees more and thrusts against the bed. With just a little friction he could-

“No!” Alex barks, short and stern, and swats just once at Reggie’s ass.

“S-Sorry,” Reggie fumbles to stabilize himself again, but it’s almost as hard as he is.

Alex _spanked_ him. It was barely a tap, but the sound echoed so nice through the room and Reggie’s still a little tingly from it. He’s going to have to tuck that idea away for next time—hopefully there _is_ a next time—because _wow_. Reggie didn’t think he’d be into anything violent, given his home life, but he’s starting to understand that he’s got secrets he’s been keeping from himself.

Alex seems to forgive him. His finger continues its exploration, this time a little faster on the push and pull, but Reggie notices Alex misses his prostate again and again, and, fuck, he’s being punished after all. Alex is reminding him that he’s only going to get what he gives him.

Reggie’s totally okay with that.

He settles in for the ride, snuggling his face onto Luke’s stomach. It’s a super comfy pillow: familiarly cozy and unfamiliarly naked. Luke pets his hair and stares him down with wide eyes. He props an arm behind his head to see him better, to watch Reggie like he’s something worth looking at. Reggie’s locked in, studying Luke’s mouth as he talks while Alex plays with his ass.

_“He’s gonna fuck you so good, Reg.”_

_“You’re gonna love it.”_

_“You’re so beautiful.”_

_“Wanted you forever.”_

_“This is what we’re supposed to be.”_

Luke’s words bleed together, like when he used to sing Reggie to sleep, and Reggie’s head spins and spins and he’s high as fuck.

Luke’s nails tickle his scalp and Alex presses at his prostate again and Reggie feels treasured and _needed_.

It’s intense.

Reggie squeals and shuts his eyes when Alex pushes into his hole with a second finger, dripping wet with more lube. He turns and bites at Luke’s chest, trying to be quiet like he usually would have to, but Luke tugs at his hair.

“Don’t hide, baby,” Luke coos, sweet and encouraging, and that’s all it takes for Reggie to let him guide him by the jaw to rest his cheek back against Luke’s sweat-damp abdomen.

Luke stares at him again, uncharacteristically quiet, as he watches every flinch of Reggie’s expression while Alex works him over. Reggie licks his lips when Alex spreads his fingers inside of him. Luke’s eyes track his tongue. Reggie opens wide to moan when Alex pours more lube right onto Reggie and his movements become loud and slick as he fucks him with his fingers.

When Alex slides in a third—so easy, Reggie thinks, and it’s more than he’s ever had—Reggie sighs happily and Luke’s own fingertips find Reggie’s lips. He’s got a curious look on his face, a focus despite his own heavy breathing that’s rocking Reggie’s head where it rests. Reggie would probably find him hard again if he just turned the other way. With just a twist, Reggie could probably lick his-

“Oh- _mhm,_ ” Reggie groans when Luke forces three fingers into his mouth to press at his tongue, fucking him at the same pace as Alex at his ass.

Luke looks wide-eyed and bright now, smiley and flushed as he wiggles his fingers in Reggie’s mouth.

“So pretty, Reg.” Luke stares and stares. Reggie doesn’t think he’s blinked at all.

Reggie swallows around Luke’s digits. His blunt nails tickle his tongue as he sucks around them to lap between his fingers. Reggie’s hyperaware, teasing each small callus against the softness of his tongue. He licks at Luke’s rings and bites down on his knuckles when Alex suddenly bites the flesh of his ass.

“I’m ready,” Reggie mumbles when Luke’s fingers retreat enough.

“Not yet.” Alex licks at the spot he bit and gives his wrist a twist so his next move lands right on Reggie’s favorite spot.

“ _Alex,_ ” Reggie whines right before Luke’s fucking back into his mouth.

“You’re ready when I say you are,” Alex reminds him, his voice that kind of low octave that makes Reggie even _more_ ready, but Reggie huffs and accepts his fate.

His dick is aching and so, so lonely where it bobs beneath him, but it’s only making him want to come more. He’s earned it, damn it. He groans in frustration while Luke pets his tongue and Alex pets his prostate. It goes on like that for what feels like forever, Reggie’s head getting fuzzier by the second, but he keeps his eyes open and continues his staring game with Luke and, hey, he’s finally part of one of those intense eye conversations.

Reggie finds sympathy there.

He also finds mischief.

Because it’s Luke.

“He’ll go on for hours if he wants to,” Luke says with a glance towards Alex. “It’s, like, his favorite thing. Working us open.”

_Us. Us. Us._

Reggie’s foggy brain gets caught on the word, used so casually, so confidently.

His skin tingles and his stomach tightens.

“One time I woke up with two fingers in my ass.” Reggie whimpers around Luke’s fingers while the boy talks. “I was coming before I had both eyes open.”

Reggie thrusts into the air viciously as he shakes, careful not to touch the bed. Every muscle he has tenses. Alex’s fingers feel fuller in his ass than they had before and Luke tastes so good.

“You gonna come, Reg?” Alex sounds so fucking smug but his breathing is labored and it makes Reggie ecstatic, thinking about how he’s causing that.

Reggie whines, and almost pushes towards the bed again when he feels like he might collapse, but Alex keeps a steady hand wrapped around the side of his thigh as a slightly painful reminder to behave. When Reggie steadies himself again, suckling on Luke’s fingers and focusing on the comfort there rather than the ache of his cock, Alex slides his hand along Reggie’s thigh, finding a new distraction. He tickles at the back of Reggie’s balls.

Alex _could_ touch Reggie’s cock. It wouldn’t be against his rules. But Reggie just _knows_ he won’t. Alex plays with his sac, so delicately and torturously. He fucks his fingers slowly into Reggie’s ass and palms at Reggie’s balls. He absolutely refuses to move the mere centimeters it would take to even brush at the base of his shaft.

Reggie is shaking and sweating heavier now, but he’s feeling a determination settle over him. It’s a calm energy despite all of the tension in the air, a weird euphoria that he’s starting to give himself over to. He wants friction, he wants to fuck the damn mattress, but he’s completely still. He locks his knees and pushes his face harder into Luke and his ass higher into the air, _away_ from the bed.

Alex hums, something pleased and light. There’s a kiss on the cheek of Reggie’s ass, soft and wet. Alex pulls away from Reggie’s cock altogether, and Reggie wants to die, but before he can even moan a complaint he’s suddenly totally fine with living again because Alex is finger-fucking his ass, quick and ferocious. He moves at the same speed he had fucked Luke with earlier. 

Alex goes right for Reggie’s prostate this time, and Reggie’s still euphoric but he’s definitely not calm.

Reggie’s buzzing and _screaming_ around Luke’s fingers, grateful for the makeshift gag so the sound doesn’t wake the neighborhood. He feels Alex’s body heat slither up his back, the boy’s cock gliding against his hip. It feels like he’s an inch from lying on top of Reggie. The new position gives Alex more leverage, letting his fingers go deeper and—impossibly—faster.

Reggie is suffocating, the phantom weight hovering at his back and Luke’s fingers stroking at his tongue, and it’s so damn good, but Reggie holds strong. He doesn’t thrust down. He doesn’t need to.

Alex’s breath is warm on Reggie’s cheek, and then his ear.

_“Good boy.”_

Reggie’s eyes shut and he sees that first night, watching Alex fuck Luke’s face at that house party. It was the first time he heard those words, the words that changed his whole life. And here they were again. And they’re _for him_. 

Reggie comes so sudden and intensely that his body hurts. He’s holding his breath one second and then shrieking in the next just as Luke takes his hand away from his mouth. Reggie feels his cock jerk between his legs on its own and he makes a mess all over the bed right where Luke had. He comes so hard he feels like he can’t stop. This has been weeks in the making—years, if he thinks about it long enough. Years of smiles and hugs and tears and songs and _love_.

Reggie hopes they have decades more.

The skin of his thighs feels sticky. He turns to lick, hungry and needy and dizzy, at Luke’s abs. Alex is moaning behind him, now farther away and off of his back, and Reggie gasps when Alex’s fingers abruptly leave his ass, but he’s groaning right back into Luke’s stomach when Alex swipes at Reggie’s cum along his thighs and shoves three fingers into his hole with it.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Reggie chants and pushes back into Alex.

He’s not getting soft. He’s not even close to feeling relaxed or boneless. He’s not done. Alex said-

“It’s okay,” Alex whispers behind him. He pets at Reggie’s shaking thighs and up to his waist and along his shoulders. “I got you.”

Good. Because Reggie doesn’t feel like he’s going to be able to do anything on his own for a long while.

Alex’s fingers leave him again. Reggie feels exposed, a little scared and a little raw. There’s a panic growing in him even though he feels _good_. It’s annoying and intrusive and he can’t shake the feeling. He shuts his eyes when Alex kisses along his spine. That helps a bit.

Alex taps his cock against Reggie’s hole, and fuck, it feels heavy and nice and wet. The boy is warm along his back again, where he keeps dropping gentle kisses. They are spread around sporadically and it takes Reggie a few beats to realize what he’s doing. Alex is kissing each one of his new scars.

Reggie holds his breath. His head starts to buzz, and Luke’s chest is rising and falling so fast that he’s getting dizzy again. Reggie can hear Luke’s heartbeat. It thumps with his own so loudly in his ears and-

“What’s wrong?” Alex’s voice is low and sweet.

Reggie opens his eyes and Luke is looking down at him with his brows pinched together. Alex’s hands smooth around his waist and Reggie relaxes the muscles he hadn’t realized he was clenching. He flinches away from Luke when he realizes that his nails have cut into his skin. Reggie was holding on too tight.

He doesn’t _know_ what’s wrong. He just… He feels so much and not enough, and he’s never experienced anything like it.

“Can I face you?” Reggie whimpers, sounding weak to his own ears as curls back to see Alex.

“Of course you can, angel,” Alex speaks just as quiet, pressing one last kiss onto Reggie’s back, this time nowhere near any of his scars. 

“Come here,” Luke mutters and yanks Reggie up with his ridiculously hot arms. He manhandles him until they are lying in the middle of the bed together, Luke propped up by the pillows at the top and holding Reggie in his arms.

This is much better, Reggie thinks, as Luke’s moist cock pushes into his lower back and the pendant on his necklace presses right between his shoulders. Alex crawls up between Reggie’s legs, pushing at his knees to kneel between them. Luke guides Reggie’s head back gently to lie on his chest while he throws his own chin over Reggie’s shoulder to watch.

Reggie can see them both now. They’re tangible again, and he’s surrounded and consumed. They’re real.

He can see himself now too. _He’s_ real. He’s awake and he’s there and he’s _theirs._

“You ready?” Alex questions, thumbing at the crease of Reggie’s groin. He avoids Reggie’s cock where it rests, still stupidly hard against his abdomen.

Reggie nods and turns to nuzzle at Luke’s jaw. Luke tangles their hands together and holds them in a heap on Reggie’s chest.

Reggie is immobile and open and vulnerable. He feels smaller than he’s ever felt, and that’s okay. He’s used to being loud and pretending to be confident, pretending to be alright all the time. But right now he just wants to feel and not think. He wants to be taken care of, and, for once, he’s going to be because it’s _AlexandLuke_ and they’re his. 

The safest place in the world has always been between Alex and Luke.

Alex leans up to kiss Reggie so fast he almost misses it and then he’s kissing Luke right next to him with a smile that Luke matches.

Alex pulls away and scoots right against Reggie so that his cock slides between his cheeks and the tops of his thighs hug Reggie’s ass. Alex spits—he can’t help himself, Reggie knows—down onto Reggie’s slick and open hole. He catches the saliva with the head of his cock and then he’s pushing in. 

And, oh, this is why Alex was so insistent on the torturous fingering. This was _a lot_. Alex was a lot. He’s bigger than his fingers, more firm and unrelenting as he inches into Reggie. But it’s so good. The stretch and the sound of the lube squelching makes Reggie’s skin prickle. He pulls his and Luke’s knotted hands up to bite down onto Luke’s wrist, just to do something with his mouth. It has to hurt, but Luke could handle it. He probably likes it, if the hard press of his cock on Reggie’s back is any indication. 

“Good boy, good boy,” Alex mumbles, sliding his palm up Reggie’s stomach, still avoiding any direct contact with his dick. “Fuck, Luke. He’s amazing.” Alex’s gaze shoots high behind Reggie to stare at his boyfriend with wide eyes, his hair falling sloppily over his forehead.

Reggie is full of so much pride that he might choke on it. His whole body throbs with it, that feeling of being cherished and wanted. It’s going to go down in history as Reggie’s greatest achievement even after they win their first Grammy. 

Alex finally sinks all the way in, his balls kissing Reggie’s ass, and Luke was right. This is _everything_. It’s all Reggie can think about. It’s all he feels and all he sees. Someone is _in_ him. _Alex_ is in him and Reggie’s not in control, but he’s not scared. He’s so calm even though his heart is racing and his cock is leaking freely onto his stomach as if he didn’t just come. He’s consumed by Alex’s dick in his ass and Luke’s pushing at his back.

Reggie writhes and pants into Luke’s neck.

He wants more. He’s never been more certain of anything.

“Easy, Reg,” Alex chuckles and squeezes his hips. “Slow,” he reminds him.

Reggie pouts and still wiggles to try to get Alex to move, but the blonde remains still and defiant with a raised brow.

Reggie’s had the control with every girl he’s ever slept with, and now he has none at all. For so many reasons, this feels like where he belongs. He’s just mad it took him so long to get here.

“He’s got you, baby,” Luke mutters in his ear. He kisses at Reggie’s scalp. _Peckpeckpeck_ just for him, just for his comfort. Luke trails those kisses around to Reggie’s jaw and then down his neck.

Luke licks at his pulse right as Alex starts to slide in and out. Reggie thought the fingering had been good, but this was so much more. Every thrust Alex gives him has Reggie feeling full and alive. It’s like Alex can’t miss his prostate. Each stroke is perfect, keeping Reggie right on the edge where they all balance together.

Alex is fast and then slow and then both, inching in and then jerking away. Reggie can’t keep up, so he just lies there and takes it. Minutes pass of pleasure and torture and then Alex holds himself deep and just grinds into Reggie with a smirk. Reggie grinds right back, which rubs him into Luke underneath him. And then they’re all moaning together.

Reggie watches Alex move to hover over him, bracing his hands on the bed. Sweat trails down the boy’s temple. Reggie licks his lips and leans up. Alex tries to kiss him, but Reggie’s dodging sideways to lick at the length of his cheek bone, tasting the salt on Alex’s skin. He’s so full but he’s so hungry.

Alex groans and Luke pulls his and Reggie’s hands higher up towards Reggie’s neck, holding him tighter. Alex’s chain tickles Reggie’s chest with every thrust now.

Reggie feels like he’s suffocating again, but he doesn’t want to breathe anyway.

Alex leans back, fucking Reggie faster with just his fingers keeping him pinned to the bed. Were Alex’s hands always this damn big?

“Love this, huh?” Luke is in his ear again, nudging at Reggie’s cheek until he turns for a kiss. Reggie licks at Luke’s teeth.

“Love- _fuck_ ,” Reggie whimpers when Alex rubs slow and long at his prostate, bending his knees to get the angle just right. Alex is smirking, of course.

Reggie’s grateful. The move saved him from saying something dumb and affectionate. All of his walls are crumbling.

Reggie’s in a new head space. It’s not the twenty-foot grave he usually dug himself into. It’s so open and bright and warm, like floating on a raft in the middle of the Pacific. The water is calm and the sun is high in the sky and his eyes are shut. There are just gentle flashes of color behind his eyelids every time Luke or Alex breathe or move, on him and _in him._

Reggie’s soft and fragile but he won’t break, not with _AlexandLuke_.

No one else is ever going to be this good. Nothing’s ever going to compare.

Everyone else is ruined for him.

Alex fucks him fast again, tugging at the back of Reggie’s knees so he slides a little lower on the bed and _shit_.

“You’re so fucking deep,” Reggie sighs. His voice shakes with each thrust.

“Look how precious you are, angel,” Alex says in awe, dancing his fingertips up Reggie’s chest. “So sweet for me. My favorite color. All pink,” Alex tickles at the blushed skin across Reggie’s collarbone.

Horny Alex is so nice and complimentary. It’s hard to get a genuine, un-sarcastic word out of him on a regular day. This feels special, and that’s probably the point.

Reggie’s skin gets hotter.

“Fuck yourself on me, Reg,” Alex orders and Reggie follows immediately because Alex _stops moving._

Alex leans back on his heels, his cock still deep in Reggie’s ass, and watches as Reggie writhes up, helpless and desperate. Reggie props his feet on the bed and squirms and circles his hips until he feels a sweet little _zapzapzap_ in his belly again.

“God, he’s fuckin’ awesome, ‘Lex.” Luke’s moan vibrates against Reggie’s shoulders and his cock is sticky and hard on Reggie’s back.

Reggie gets a rush of new adoration for Luke, realizing he can’t—or won’t—touch himself either. They’re in this together, always.

Luke mouths at Reggie’s neck some more, hot and wet. He bites and sucks, latching on while Reggie fucks down onto Alex’s cock.

“Fuck, you bruise so easy,” Luke praises him when he lets go, untangling two of their hands to touch at the mark he made. “Gorgeous,” Luke adds, pressing his thumb against the bite until it stings.

Reggie’s cock jumps at the thought of trying—or not trying at all—to cover the hickey tomorrow.

Reggie whines and wiggles on Alex and pulls him forward with his legs until Alex is forced down over him.

He pulls at the back of Alex’s neck and twists him by the hair. He bites down as soon as he’s got skin against his mouth, still moaning and wriggling on Alex’s dick.

“Shit, angel,” Alex starts to take over again—thank god—and fucks into Reggie deep and slow while Reggie works a pretty mark of his own high up on Alex’s throat. He tastes so good.

They are all going to be bruised and well-fucked in the morning. The marks might even last for days, and then Reggie wants to replace them before they can even fully fade. Fuck, he’s never going to be able to look at Alex and Luke the same again. He’s going to be distracted at every band practice for a long while. Bobby is going to strangle them all.

Reggie screams and lets Alex go when his cock starts a relentless rhythm in his ass. He pushes back into Luke and doesn’t even remember how to move. Alex holds himself up with his hands on the bed at Reggie’s sides, thrusting in and out with the same power he had used on Luke. The blonde’s bangs fall into his eyes when he looks down to watch his dick inside of Reggie. He pushes the hair away but it falls right back into place, unruly as ever.

Reggie can barely moan anymore. He’s just making sounds and he might even be begging but his ears are ringing and he can’t focus on anything other than the little tap of the head of his dick on his stomach every time Alex juts forward. He feels the arousal coiling tightly again, like the first orgasm never left him, his muscles still quivering from before.

“You gonna come again?” Alex sounds delighted and breathless. “Please do it, angel,” he pleads, more wrecked with each word. “Do it for us.” Alex leans back on his heels again to give him and Luke a better view.

Reggie’s breath hitches and then it does nothing at all because Luke’s hand slides up his neck and settles on his throat with a pressure that’s just a little less than innocent.

Luke’s dark chuckle rumbling through his back and Alex’s answering smirk does Reggie in.

Alex fucks him right through it, not losing speed at all, and Luke only relieves the pressure of his fingers at his neck, still resting his hand, warm and large, there.

Reggie can see his own cock twitch violently up off of his stomach when he comes all over himself, each movement painting him white all the way up his chest. Every thrust Alex gives him pushes more out even when Reggie’s sure he has to be empty.

Reggie’s never appreciated his youth so much before. He wonders if he could come again, with enough practice. He hopes they have forever to find out.

Reggie twists and shivers, overwhelmed, and some of his cum drips down his hip and onto Luke’s calf at his side. Luke moans and rubs his leg against Reggie, pushing his own erection into Reggie’s back and keeping him pinned. 

Reggie’s eyes burn and he feels like his skin might melt off of his bones. He realizes he’s crying a little, so relieved but so fucking high strung with Alex still in him, moving quick and sharp.

“Fuck, fuck,” Alex chants, holding Reggie tight against his groin by the hips.

“In him, ‘Lex. In him,” Luke begs, rubbing off on Reggie’s back in the same tempo that Alex is fucking Reggie with.

Alex’s hips stutter and he looks to Reggie, who just rests between them, weightless and spent and totally used.

“Yeah, yes, _yes,_ ” Reggie groans and tries to hump into Alex but his legs aren’t cooperating enough. He can’t even fathom how Alex has lasted this long. He’s better than him and Luke.

Alex whines, high and pretty, and then he’s coming inside of Reggie. It’s hot and wet and Reggie’s got a new fixation. 

Alex’s cock slows, pushing in and out of Reggie with new cum-slick sounds. Alex stares down at him and Luke squeezes him from behind. Reggie is overwhelmed with that feeling of intimacy he remembers witnessing through Luke’s window. He’s there with them this time. They’re in him and under him and Reggie’s floating so high he feels like he won’t ever be able to come back down, but then he _is_ falling back down at least a little because his head hits the mattress with a delicate thump.

Alex slides out of him and Reggie whimpers, already hating the empty feeling, but then Alex is warm and solid as he snuggles into his side and Luke appears between his thighs.

“Can I come on you?” Luke asks, his voice strained as he strokes his own cock. He looks awesome. If Reggie had any strength he’d touch him, but he’s currently swimming through a delicious fog in his head. A fog made of blue cotton candy, Reggie thinks.

“Whatever you want.” Reggie smiles.

If Luke wanted to stab him with a sword right now it would be totally cool.

“O _h!_ ” Reggie sighs when Luke taps his cock along Reggie’s balls. He nudges the tip at his taint and then prods at his hole.

“Shit,” Alex mumbles, finding energy to lean up on his elbow and pull at Reggie’s thigh. “Wanna see.”

Luke doesn’t fuck him—Reggie’s disappointed and relieved, unsure if he could take more but sort of wanting to see if he can. Luke just pushes the head of his dick at Reggie’s slick hole where Alex’s cum runs out of him. Luke presses at the tender pink skin while he frantically jacks himself off. It takes seconds before he comes again, moaning loud and decorating Reggie’s ass.

Luke’s cum splashes along his cock and balls and on Alex’s fingers where they have a bruising grip on Reggie’s thigh.

“Good boy.”

Reggie doesn’t know if Alex is talking to him or Luke. He likes to think he’s praising them both. The words are kissed into Reggie’s nipple right before Alex bites him and tugs. Reggie barely has the air to whine because he’s staring down between his legs at Luke. The boy is whimpering and his abs are flexing so hard with each breath. He dives down and swipes his tongue over Reggie’s hole, licking all the way up to the tip of his cock and then over his stomach with one fluid motion.

Luke’s got all of their cum in his mouth as he crawls up Reggie’s body. Reggie only has enough time to think _holy fuck that’s hot_ before he can’t think at all because Luke’s in his face. His hand is back on Reggie’s neck and he’s kissing him sloppy and wet, all of the cum pooling between them and dripping down Reggie’s chin. And then Alex is suddenly there cleaning it up, licking at his jaw and then stealing his mouth, and then Luke’s, and then his, and then Luke’s.

It’s sinful and messy and Reggie never wants to be clean again. Fuck showers and fuck clothes.

He swallows what Luke and Alex have given him.

It feels like another drug.

Reggie’s not giving it up for anything.

Alex settles in at one side, petting Reggie’s chest and stomach and staring at him like he’s some sort of magic trick, and Luke snuggles in at Reggie’s other side. They are both so beautiful. Reggie’s pretty sure they’re glowing. Or maybe that was just his blurry vision.

Reggie’s still vibrating every time he breathes while Alex fusses over him.

“You did so good, angel.” He kisses his cheek. “So perfect.” There are hands in his hair. “Everything we wanted.” Another bite at his nipple, and then a long sluggish tug at his spent dick. Reggie shakes at the stimulation, but Alex takes his time. Reggie likes to think he missed touching him as much as he missed getting touched. 

Luke is quiet, tactile with his energy instead of verbal. He sucks at Reggie’s skin, kissing lazily with no real power behind it. He doesn’t leave any more marks, just trails of spit and the faint touch of scraping teeth at his ribcage where Luke rests his head.

Reggie never stays after sex, but he wants to stay so badly now. He feels so desperate and needy that his eyes sting again. He wants to be taken care of and held and _seen_. His body feels like it won’t come down from his orgasm, not with Alex petting at him and Luke suckling on his skin. Reggie feels like a feather trying to reach the ground in a tornado.

“Should I leave?” he wonders aloud. His voice sounds scratchy and he stares at the ceiling.

“You are _painfully_ stupid sometimes,” Alex groans into his shoulder.

“Shut up, Alex,” Luke hisses across Reggie’s torso. “We want you to stay, like, _forever_.” Luke nuzzles higher up onto Reggie so he can kiss his cheek.

“Oh.” He had to be sure. “Okay, good.” Reggie smiles and lets his eyes shut.

It’s weird, getting what he wants, embracing something he fought so hard to get away from.

Reggie feels sated and whole and calm, happy and fulfilled under their arms with their cocks soft and intimate against his hips. He’s between them just like the night in Luke’s bed, but better. He’s there for real this time.

He’s not just Reggie anymore. He’s _ReggieLukeAlex._

It’s terrifying and beautiful and fucked up and amazing.

Reggie hopes it lasts for an eternity.

The three of them settle into bed with a few lethargic kisses—Reggie can’t seem to stop seeking them out. Luke falls asleep on Reggie’s stomach and Reggie’s head and upper body are cushioned on Alex’s chest. Alex’s arm is looped under them both and Luke’s is wrapped wide around Reggie’s waist so he can settle his hand on Alex’s thigh. The sheet is only draped loosely over their legs. Reggie’s not cold at all.

He’s warm and comfy, his body finally coming down, but the back of Reggie’s head is whispering.

Can they really do this? Three people in a relationship isn’t a thing, is it? Reggie would be intruding on what Alex and Luke already have. But Alex and Luke made it sound simple. Could it be?

Reggie’s exhaustion is heavier than his thoughts, and he nods off before he can overthink.

The sun is bright when Reggie wakes up again. The light pours into the garage through the open door. It would have been peaceful if it weren’t for the figure in the doorway. 

Bobby is standing there, a bag of bagels held between his teeth and a tray of coffees—and a hot chocolate for Reggie—in his hands.

Bobby’s got a dumbstruck expression on his face, staring at his three naked friends on the bed, the blankets not leaving much to the imagination.

Alex stirs when Reggie startles, holding him tight against his body, and he’s got that daring look in his eye like that night at the bar, like he’ll fight Bobby if he has to. Luke squints through the daylight at Bobby and then rolls his eyes before plopping back down onto Reggie, rubbing his cheek into his chest to get comfortable again. 

Bobby mumbles around the paper bag in his mouth, something that sounds suspiciously like “What the fuck?”

Reggie doesn’t have the answer, doesn’t have the right words, but Luke always does.

Luke nuzzles Reggie’s skin and squeezes closer to him, pushing Reggie back into Alex more firmly.

“This is a thing now,” Luke calls out, eyes shut and body relaxed. “Get used to it.”

Reggie realizes some things are just meant to be easy. Some things you just aren’t meant to fight. 

Some addictions you just can’t kick.

Maybe _AlexandLuke_ are a drug.

But maybe that’s not so bad.

Maybe they’re his medicine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a SEQUEL to this!!! I enjoyed writing this so much and I have so much more I want to explore with these guys now that they are together. I’m not ready to start posting yet, but I recommend you subscribe to [ my author page here on Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynnyMars/pseuds/LynnyMars) if you want to make sure you get a notification when I post the new fic. For those of you who have also read my other story, Leather Bound, I am also planning another Reggie/Alex fic. I will start posting whichever fic I get more of done first. 
> 
> I hope you all liked this story as much as I do. I’m excited to share more with you guys :)
> 
> [-Lynn](https://lynnymars.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you think? I know this is a little different than my last fic and that Explicit fics do not seem to be very abundant around here, but I hope there is an audience for this because I pretty much already have the rest of the chapters written lol. 
> 
> Please leave a comment! I'm also on [tumblr under the same name](https://lynnymars.tumblr.com/) if anybody wants to chat. 
> 
> -Lynn


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